City of New Beginnings
by LiveLaughLove728
Summary: The Dark War is over, Sebastian is defeated, and peace has been restored once again, even if only temporarily. For the New York Shadowhunters, life has been slowly getting back to normal-whatever that is, but there's still one more big hurdle left to jump, involving a certain soon-to-be Shadowhunter, and, for some more than others, everything is about to change. *Post-CoHF*
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys,**

**So, I had posted this story a few months ago and ended up taking it down because I was in the middle of writing some other stuff and I just seriously lacked the motivation and inspiration to continue with it. However, I have since finished those other stories and reread CoHF, and have changed my mind, because I am still not completely satisfied with how it left off with Simon and stuff, and I do actually like what I had started here. **

**As far as the writing style goes, I am trying to keep it as close to Cassandra Clare's as I can, hence the multiple POVs in a chapter.**

**For right now I am only going to upload chapter 1, even though I have 5 or 6 written already from what I had originally posted, just to get this going again and to give me some time to reread the other chapters and edit. I will post the other chapters over the course of the next few days as I get around to it.**

**As far as updates go, I will tentatively tell you about once per week, which is generally how I handled my other stories, but I haven't written very much over the past few months and I need to get back in the swing of it so maybe slightly more then that. Bear with me.**

**Anyway, please read and enjoy. And please let me know what you think. :)**

* * *

"I can't do _that_!" Simon protested as Jace landed back on the training room floor, having finished demonstrating yet another of the many moves the former was supposedly required to know as part of his "basic training" regimen prior to Ascension. Honestly, he wondered if the Shadowhunters didn't just get a kick out of watching him mess up over and over again on stuff that was supposedly simple.

It had been a week since Jocelyn and Luke's wedding, the day that Simon had been (re)introduced to the Shadow World and to what had actually been his life for most of the past year. He still didn't remember everything, though Magnus' spell had worked wonders for him over the past seven days. The memories were still coming; a slow process that was kind of driving him crazy, but he would take what he could get.

Almost immediately after that, Simon had been thrust into vigorous training, both physical and intellectual, in preparation for becoming one of the Nephilim. He had spent every day at the Institute, from dawn to dusk, learning about Shadowhunters, Downworlders, and demons; everything from random facts to the Shadowhunter family trees (why? He didn't know); and of course, his personal favorite part: fight training. The Shadowhunters of the New York Institute were dedicated, to say the least, to teaching him how to fight like the rest of them. Personally, he thought he was doing pretty well, but the others, save Clary and maybe Isabelle, seemed to think otherwise.

"Why not?" Jace asked simply, as if he couldn't, for the life of him, understand what was so complicated about the jump sword (in Simon's case, a fake one) slash that had somehow involved multiple flips in the air that he had just performed and now wanted Simon to try.

"_Why?_ Because I can't. I'll break my neck!"

"I don't think you will," Jace stubbornly persisted, "Clary learned how to do it and she had just about as much training then as you do now." Simon looked incredulously behind him where Clary and Isabelle sat on the sill of one of the training room windows, watching, and occasionally giving their two cents as Jace taught the lesson for that day.

Clary smirked, returning his gaze, and shrugged. "And I'm just awesome like that," she added unhelpfully.

"That too," Jace agreed. Simon gave the redhead a look, which she easily returned, before he turned back to Jace. "Now do it," the Shadowhunter commanded coolly, "Unless you want to chicken-out in front of your girlfriend. I mean, that's cool too…"

Simon sighed, "Fine. But if I end up paralyzed for the rest of my life, it's on you."

Jace grinned and picked up the end of the cord on the floor, the other end of which was tied securely around Simon's waist. He held it up for the other guy to see. "As okay as I would be with that, that's what this is for."

* * *

Clary watched as Simon attempted the move, throwing himself up into the air, clumsily striking out with his training sword and managing a single flip, one less than Jace had done, before landing-not so gracefully-on the floor again. She clapped her hands in applause for him. Overall, it wasn't a bad first attempt- _way _better than her first attempt at it had been (not that she would tell him that). But she had been scared of heights then and not fond of flinging herself into the air, chord tied to her or not, and Simon had never been. Even with only a week's worth of training under his belt, it was clear Simon would make a great Shadowhunter. He'd already taken to it so well, regardless of how hard Jace was pushing him. She was just grateful her boyfriend wasn't still insulting him every chance he got.

And Simon was making progress. He was already getting the hang of most of the basic techniques and, though he wasn't very fond of the book work, he was interested enough in it to remember most of it. And all the physical training was already paying off for him. Even in just a week, he had grown slightly more muscular and definitely more confident. He carried himself more like a Shadowhunter, which, in Clary's opinion, was half the battle. Then again, he _had_ been a vampire for a few months. Even if he didn't remember all of it, that had to have helped at least a little. Somehow.

Simon, having ascertained that his feet were back on the floor again, shot her a sarcastic smirk before he turned back to Jace again. He bowed sarcastically.

Jace stood casually, arms crossed, as he had since he'd finished his demonstration of the move, looking cocky and cool as always. He wore gear, as did the other Shadowhunters in the room. Simon hadn't reached training with actual weapons yet and therefore didn't need it. "Not bad," Jace admitted, "But you need more height and better posture in the landing. Actually, just better posture all around would be good."

Simon took a deep breath. "Alright."

"Do it about a hundred more times," Jace instructed. "By then, you might have it down."

Clary continued to watch as Simon attempted the technique again. Her own training was barely underway, but she was more advanced than him by quite a few months, and she had learned a lot while in action, which had helped speed things along a bit. Right now, everyone's training had been put on hold for Simon's crash course. After his Ascension, which would be sooner than usual, given the circumstances, training schedules would go back to normal.

It was strangely wonderful to think about- Simon's joining the ranks of the Shadowhunters. He would be like her, like all of them, and not as a vampire who could never really fit in. He would be Nephilim, exactly like her. Granted, the thought of Simon Ascending kind of terrified her. Everyone-Jace, Maryse, her mom- had assured her that he was a great candidate for the process, having been a vampire, though that also made Clary more worried. No one to Ascend had ever previously been a Downworlder, so really, no one could truly know. Then again, no one had ever previously been a vampire and now wasn't either-that they knew of, anyway.

Simon's training lasted about another hour until it was almost ten o'clock at night and well past a decent time for both her and Simon to head home. Jace kissed her goodbye by the Institute's front door as Simon reappeared, probably from doing the same with Isabelle. "Ready to go, Fray?" he asked casually. Hearing him call her that again, after six months of him having not remembered she'd even existed, brought a smile to her face, as almost everything he said lately did.

"Yup," Clary answered easily, letting go of Jace's hand, which hers had rested in.

He let it go and kissed her quickly on the cheek and whispered, "Bye," before he proceeded to walk back further inside the Institute, though not without playfully mussing Simon's hair on the way. "Bye, Mundane," he called over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner.

Simon just grinned, looking unconcerned, and ran his hand through his hair, attempting to smooth it. "Not for long," he said lightly and led the way out the door, into the cool summer air of the night.

* * *

"So," Clary asked casually as they walked the sidewalks on the way to the subway- something you definitely should not do alone at night in New York. "How are the muscles?"

"Sore," Simon answered. Clary smirked like she knew exactly what he was talking about. She probably did, having been in the same boat as him not so long ago with the crash course in demon slaying she'd been put through upon discovering that she was a Shadowhunter. And with the constant abuse the training put his body through every day; sore muscles seemed to go with the territory.

"You'll get used to it soon," she said, and then pointed out, "At least you can walk normally now." It was true. The first day or two of training had left Simon barely able to _move_, let alone come back and train some more. The pain now had been reduced to a dull throb in his arms, torso, and legs; annoying but manageable.

"Oh, like you weren't using pain killing runes every chance you got when this was you."

Her smile widened. "No, actually. But there's a rune for sore muscles. It's a miracle worker, let me tell you." She said this very seriously, only a hint of amusement in her voice, but she started laughing when she glanced at Simon beside her and saw the face he was giving her. A lot of good a sore muscle rune would do him when the pain would have faded on its own by the time he Ascended. "No pain, no gain," Clary said, "Sorry." She didn't sound very sorry though, mostly amused.

"Oh, it's all good," Simon said sarcastically, "I'll just be _that _much better than all of you when the time comes."

She snorted, "Yeah, okay." They walked for a minute in comfortable silence. They were almost to the subway station when Clary spoke again, "So you're okay with this, right? This whole Ascension thing."

Simon looked at her. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

She shrugged. "I just don't want you to think you have to do this. I mean, I'm sure there's other ways for you to keep your memories." She didn't meet his eyes and it was clear that, though she said so, she obviously wasn't sure there was another way.

He looked at her, waiting for her eyes to meet his again, and grinned at her. "I want this. Trust me, Clary." He paused for a second before adding, "You can't be more awesome than me forever. I can't allow it."

Clary smiled and laughed lightly. "Okay. Just making sure."

The conversation after that lightened, the topic changing to a mundane one, partly because the streets had grown more crowded as they neared the subway and partly because Simon just wanted to have a normal conversation for once.

He wanted to Ascend. There was no doubt in his mind. He'd wanted to be a Shadowhunter ever since the first day he'd visited the Institute, and even more after he'd found out Clary was one. Granted, his motives for doing so were different now, but his point still stood. But still, after talking about almost nothing _but _Shadow World stuff for the past week, he was glad for the reprieves he got from it on his walks home with Clary.

Mostly he was just glad that he could remember most things again. In the time before Magnus and Isabelle had shown up in front of his school, which had actually only been six months but seemed _way_ longer, he'd felt like something huge was missing somewhere, but he, obviously, couldn't remember for the life of him what it was. Things were working out now. He had his family, his life, and his girlfriend back. He was getting what he'd wanted for so long, even after he'd been Turned. And he had Clary, his best friend, back.

Frankly, he didn't care how difficult the training was or what trials the future would hold for him as a Shadowhunter. Right now, just having things back to "normal" was enough, no matter what happened.

He had subconsciously slowed his pace as his thoughts wandered. It wasn't until Clary snapped her fingers in his face that he was brought back to reality. He blinked and looked at her. "Simon, the train's going to be here in, like, two minutes. Unless you want to miss it and have to wait even longer, I suggest you hurry up." Her words were serious, but there was humor in her tone.

"That was _very_ rude, Fray," he joked, but he picked up the pace to a fast walk, and Clary, being as short as she was, had to nearly jog to keep up.

"You'll live," she laughed, "I know you've put up with worse. You should probably get used to it."

"This is true," he said dramatically, "But from _you_-"

Clary laughed, interrupting him. She put on a burst of speed then, sprinting into the station and despite how small she was and how short her legs were, training had made her quick. Simon had to sprint to catch up with her and despite how stupid the two of them probably looked; he laughed the whole way.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Next chapter should be posted shortly.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thanks to those of you who reviewed to last chapter. I love hearing feedback! :)**

**So I finished rereading/editing another chapter. Like I mentioned last chapter, I have through ch. 6 written from when I had previously posted this story. They should be up fairly quickly, and then after that, you can expect updates about weekly.**

**Anyway, please read and enjoy. :)**

* * *

Clary sat at the table in Luke's (and now also her mother's) kitchen. She had finished breakfast (toast and coffee) a few minutes earlier and was now waiting for Jace to come pick her up for yet another long day spent at the Institute; days which her mother finally seemed to have opened up to enough to be almost okay with them.

Jocelyn sat across the table from her, a terrycloth robe wrapped around her and a mug of coffee in her hands. She watched as Clary zipped up the jacket of her gear- Jace had told her to be sure she wore it today and brought Heosphoros, which had her both excited and anxious for whatever it was they were going to be doing. Jace had given her no clue.

Clary leaned back in her chair and met her mother's eyes across the table. Jocelyn gave her a small smile. "How's Simon's training coming?" she asked.

Clary shrugged. "It's coming, I guess. He's doing a lot better than he was." She smirked. "He says we're all cheaters because we can use runes to help us and he can't."

She smiled. "I suppose he would have a point there. You don't use runes for training, do you?"

Clary shook her head. "Only the permanent ones."

"He'll have his own Marks soon enough." His Ascension was in a matter of days now.

Clary smiled as a knock sounded on the front door. "That's what I told him," she replied, standing up.

"Have fun," Jocelyn said, "Be _safe_."

Clary, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, just smiled. "I will, Mom," she answered and made her way from the kitchen and to the front door. She opened it to reveal Jace standing there, in all his angel-like perfection. He smiled upon seeing her. "Hey," Clary said. She barely had time to step outside and close the door behind her before Jace pulled her close and kissed her quickly.

"Hello," he said softly after pulling away.

"Jace," Clary scolded, unable to keep the smile from her face, "Come on. My mom is finally okay with you. Don't make her hate you again."

"_Hate _me?" he replied sarcastically, keeping only her hand in his as he led her away from her house. He shook his head. "Not possible. I refuse to accept that she hated me."

"Yeah? What would you call it then?"

"A very strong disliking," he answered with a grin.

Clary snorted. "Last I checked, that was the definition of the word 'hate.'"

"A difference in opinion," Jace said with a shrug. Rolling her eyes, she looked away, still smiling. "So how are you?" he asked then, charming as ever.

"I'm fine. What are we doing today?"

Jace's smile was dazzling. "That is for me to know and for you to find out."

Clary gave a light sigh, which turned into a laugh, giving in. "Okay."

* * *

Simon was waiting with Isabelle for them in the training room. Clary wasn't sure how long they'd been there, but judging from their swollen lips and rosy cheeks, it was fairly obvious what they'd been _doing_. She glanced beside her in time to see Jace give them a sarcastic look. Isabelle gave him the face right back while Simon just looked away.

"Okay," Jace said in a commanding voice as the two moved closer to them, "As per Maryse's orders, we are training in combat today." Clary wasn't sure what exactly made him so special that he could give orders, other than that he was better than the rest of them, but no one questioned it.

"Wait," Simon put in, "_We?_ Meaning it's not just me anymore?"

Jace simply looked at him with an even expression. "That is what I said, isn't it?"

Simon, used to the blond Shadowhunter's sarcasm by now, nodded. "Just checking," he said easily, obviously pleased.

"_Anyway_," Jace began again, "We'll start with basic sparring sessions. Izzy and I will go first, and after that, Clary and Simon. Winners of each will then proceed to face each other in the third round."

Midway through Jace's instructions, Simon had glanced over at Clary and she was sure she could see the slightest apprehension in them. _He's intimidated to fight me_," she realized, unsure of whether that made her feel more pleased or sorry for him. She wasn't sure what exactly made Jace think that the current exercise was anything even remotely close to fair, but then she remembered to whom she was referring and scratched the thought. Jace would be Jace, and the rest of them (though Clary, at times, was a bit of an exception) were powerless to do anything about it.

"And remember," Jace added as he and Isabelle walked to the center of the room and Clary and Simon walked to the side, "It's not about who wins, but how long you can last and what you know." He didn't sound like he believed that for a second.

"Unless your name is Jace Lightwood," Simon muttered lightheartedly, quietly enough that only Clary could hear, echoing her own thoughts. "That _is _his name, right?" he asked as a side-note, watching, as she was, Jace and Isabelle begin circling one another, weapons drawn.

She smiled, eyes not leaving Jace and Izzy. "It's Herondale, actually."

He threw his hands up dramatically, looking at her for the first time. "Is that his final answer?"

Clary was spared answering by Jace calling across the room as he struck out at Isabelle with a blade and then dodged a flip of her whip. "I can hear you, Mundane. And to answer your question: yes, it is. Now shut up and pay attention or you'll miss my imminent victory." He didn't skip a beat. Isabelle gave a single short laugh in response. Clary smiled, laughing silently, and shook her head slightly. Simon said nothing, but obeyed.

The match was over quickly and, sure enough, Jace won; another stoke to his already-too-large ego. He grinned at Clary and Simon."Your turn."

* * *

Jace stood off to the side with Izzy as she twirled her whip around her wrist absentmindedly, watching Clary and Simon begin their own match. The swords they used were wooden, mainly for Clary's benefit. Jace trusted her skill with a sword, but not so much Simon's. Not yet. And he didn't want to see his girlfriend accidentally impaled if it could be avoided. Or, more likely, Simon would impale himself, since Clary could easily defend herself. Either way, training swords were a necessary precaution.

He watched as the two circled each other, paying particular attention to Simon's technique. Clary made the first move, and he, almost gracefully, deflected it and parried; emphasis on _almost_. Jace was honestly kind of impressed as he watched. For only having been training for a little over a week, Simon had come a long way for a mundane. He seemed almost skilled by this point.

"Don't go easy on him, Clary," Jace called. She obviously was. And it was probably the merciful thing to do, but Simon needed a challenge, even if it was a little too far over his head. And Jace knew it was, but if he was never tested, how was he to ever get better? The Shadowhunter was doing him a favor. Simon just didn't know it yet.

Clary ignored Jace, stepping up the game minutely at best. Simon did, however, seem to be holding his own fairly well, despite how hard he was working while she hadn't even broken a sweat. Jace was just getting tired of looking at him when he could easily watch Clary, beautiful, dangerous, _perfect _Clary, instead.

"I mean it, Clary," he called again, smiling a little despite himself. Clary glanced at him quickly before looking at Simon again, easily blocking another of his advances, her expression questioning. He gave her a quick nod and Clary, with one last look shot at Jace, disarmed Simon in one swift movement and wound up with her sword inches from his throat.

"Happy?" she called to Jace, tossing aside her practice sword in exchange for her real one.

He grinned, mostly in anticipation, and began to move toward the center of the room again. "Very."

* * *

"It's fairly obvious how this is going to end, don't you think?" Clary said as Jace came to stand across from her.

He shrugged, still grinning. "Maybe not."

She just snorted as weapons were drawn and the two began to circle each other, determined to at least show him something of a challenge before he could disarm her. Jace made the first move, striking out at her with his sword. She deflected the blow with Heosphoros easily enough, but it was obvious from the look on his face that he was enjoying this way too much for it to be a serious match to him.

Gritting her teeth, Clary lunged forward again with the sword and Jace easily sidestepped. It went on like this for a while, the two of them parrying back and forth, Jace hardly trying at all. Finally Clary, winded and sweaty, met his eyes and gave in, allowing the sword to be ripped from her hands from the force of one of his blows and sent skittering across the room. Jace drew her in and around so her back was to him, pressed up against his body, and set his blade against her neck. "I win," he whispered, his lips an inch from her ear, and pecked her quickly on the cheek.

"I let you," she replied, breathing hard but smiling.

"I know," he said, clicking his tongue, "Ruined all the fun."

"Well," she said as he let her go, "It wasn't as if you would lose anyway."

"You don't know that. I might have let you win. Eventually." He grinned at the last word.

"Exactly. We don't have all day, you know."

"Well," he countered, always having to have the last word, "We kind of do-"

"If you two are done," Isabelle interrupted, "The rest of us would like to move on with our lives." Jace shot Clary a smile before retrieving her fallen sword, handing it to her, and walking to join Simon and Isabelle by the window.

* * *

Simon sat in one of the comfortable chairs in the library later that day, reading through another of the many Demonology books he was required to study before his Ascension. Frankly, he was getting bored. Shadowhunter studies were more fun than regular mundane studies, but after days upon days of doing nothing else, he could really use a break.

He looked up from the textbook and out the window. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in there, but the sun was starting to sink in the sky, turning it shades of orange and pink behind the buildings of New York on the horizon. The door opened then and Clary, Jace, and Isabelle walked in, followed by Alec and Magnus. The Shadowhunters were all clad in gear and looked as if they'd been out hunting demons or something. They probably had. God, Simon couldn't wait until he could go out and do that too. Magnus was his usual colorful, spiky-haired self, wearing a bright blue shirt with jeans and a rainbow scarf. And sparkles; sparkles were everywhere.

Jace threw himself down in the chair across from Simon and as Clary walked by, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down with him, settling her on his lap. Isabelle sat on the arm of Simon's chair and Magnus and Alec each pulled up a chair to the side of him.

Simon looked around at all of them and awkwardly said, "Uh, hey."

"Look at you," Jace said in a mocking voice," studying like a good little Ascendee." Simon ignored him, used to his sarcasm by now, but was slightly gratified when Clary smacked her boyfriend's arm.

"So, Simon," Magnus said, "How're the memories coming along?"

"Well I know who all of you are again," Simon answered, closing the book in his lap. He was exceptionally pleased with this fact. "Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, I'm still not sure."

Magnus nodded, "And your family? They don't remember anything?"

Simon shook his head, narrowing his eyes. "No. They still think I'm just a normal teenager, who happens to spend a _lot _of time away from home." Not that that actually would have made him _ab_normal at all.

Magnus nodded again, very serious. "And what about your dreams? Have they been strange or abnormal recently?"

Simon gave him a weird look. "What are you, my therapist? _No._ I haven't been having weird dreams. And I'm not contemplating the purpose of my life either, in case you're wondering."

Magnus held his hands up in surrender. "Chill out, Samson. I just want to make sure there aren't any demons trying to influence you in your sleep."

Simon blinked. "That can happen?"

"Well Lilith did it to Jace easily enough." Jace looked down as he said that. "And my father is a Prince of Hell." He was clearly displeased at having to say the words aloud, but continued, "He won't take kindly to having been played. I used strong magic on you, hopefully enough to keep our plan for your Ascension a secret from him until you become a Shadowhunter and he no longer has power over you, but it's not a chance I'm willing to take if it isn't."

"Oh," Simon said, his voice suddenly smaller, "Yeah. That's um, understandable."

"But don't worry," Magnus said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I'm sure you'll be fine. My magic is strong, and I happen to know what I'm doing. Mostly."

_Well, gee,_ Simon thought, _That's reassuring._ Now any dream he had over the course of the next week would leave him freaking out over whether or not he was becoming possessed. Rather than voicing this though, he simply nodded, saying nothing.

"Well," Isabelle interrupted, probably sensing Simon's disturbed state of mind, "Mom is cooking dinner. It'll probably be done soon, so…" She didn't have to finish. Jace and Alec had already stood up. Simon had had Maryse's cooking before and it _was_ great, but he'd spent one too many dinners away from home this week. Isabelle stood with her brothers. "Coming?" she asked, looking at him.

"No. I should probably get home early tonight. I can't be home late every day. My mom's not _that _lenient."

"He's got a point," Clary said, now also standing, next to Jace, his hand on her back, "I should probably eat at least one meal at home this week too." Jace gave her an over-exaggerated look of disappointment, but let her go. Simon turned to Isabelle as the two of them bid their goodbyes.

"See you tomorrow?" she offered with a small smile.

He smiled back, "Absolutely," and pecked her on the cheek (there were people around) and squeezed her hand before stepping back to see Jace and Clary walking toward him. "You ready?" he asked. She nodded.

The bunch of them left the library together and Simon and Clary detached themselves from the group and headed toward the elevator, while the others made their way to the kitchen. "You okay?" Clary asked him as the elevator began moving down. His face must have still betrayed his unease at the whole possible-possession thing.

He nodded. "Fine. Just kind of paranoid about this whole dream thing now."

She gave a sympathetic smile. "It'll be fine. Magnus knows what he's doing."

"I hope so." The elevator stopped at ground level, Simon lifted the door open, and the two of them walked out toward the front door.

"He does," Clary said reassuringly, though Simon could hear the tension underneath. She took his hand in hers for a second and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting it go again.

And Simon, despite everything, felt a little better after that.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please leave a review with your thoughts in the box below. :)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Another chapter for you!**

**I may have another one up by the end of the night. We'll see! :)**

* * *

Clary walked the halls of the Institute, having narrowly evaded trying another of Isabelle's culinary mishaps, in search of Jace and/or Simon; whoever she found first. She had just arrived a few minutes earlier and, having checked the library already, was now heading to the training room, where at least one of them was bound to be. Simon's Ascension was tomorrow and he was surely squeezing in as much training as he could beforehand.

Clary wasn't sure how she felt about the whole thing. Sure, she wanted him to become a Shadowhunter, more than almost anything, really, but the risk of something going wrong was still there, and would continue to be until he was officially Nephilim. And she, being his best friend, was going to worry until then.

As she turned a final corner, bringing her into the hallway leading to the training room, Clary could hear voices coming from it; unmistakably the voices of her two favorite people in the world.

"Seriously?" Simon was asking.

"Yes," Jace answered resolutely.

A sigh then from Simon and a muttered "Fine."

The first thing Clary saw upon entering the room was her best friend crashing to the floor in a heap of limbs, yelling, "OW!" along with a few other expletives, while Jace stood off to the side of him, looking like he may explode from withheld laughter.

"Hey," he managed casually enough when he saw her. He was wearing his usual jeans and a black T-shirt. Clary didn't respond except to rush across the room to where Simon lay sprawled on the floor.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I think I broke my spleen," he muttered painfully as he sat up. He was wearing light training clothes: a T-shirt and basketball shorts.

"You can't break your spleen," Jace corrected, moving toward them.

"What happened?" Clary demanded, standing up and offering Simon a hand. He took it and she pulled him up (a feat that would have been impossible a year earlier).

"Pre-Ascension ritual," Simon grunted.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What?"

"Pre-Ascension ritual," Simon repeated, sounding slightly healthier, "You know, the stand on one hand for thirty seconds ritual. To prove yourself or something?"

Clary stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Jace said-" He cut off abruptly and turned, comprehension dawning in his features, to look at Jace, who had been awfully quiet during this conversation. He stood a few feet away from them, looking exceptionally amused. Simon half-sighed, half-groaned. "God, I should have known," he muttered, rubbing at his neck as if it was sore. After that fall, it probably was.

"I can't believe you fell for that," Jace said laughing, "That didn't even _sound _realistic."

Clary gave her boyfriend a look and turned her attention back to Simon. "Neither can I," she told him honestly, unable to help herself, "Haven't you learned by now not to take anything Jace says seriously?" Despite herself, she was trying not to smile.

Her expression must have betrayed her amusement more than she realized because Simon looked at her and crossed his arms. "Yeah, go ahead, Fray. Laugh at me. Thanks."

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head and still smiling. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said after a pause, getting to his feet, "Fine. Where's Isabelle?"

"In the kitchen," Clary answered, "But I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

Simon had already begun walking from the room. "Don't worry. I have no intention of eating her food," he called over his shoulder and disappeared from sight.

The second he was gone, Jace's arms were around her, wrapping her from behind. He rested his chin lightly on her hair. She turned in his arms so she was facing him, looking up at his face. "You're a jerk, you know that?"

He grinned. "Yes, I do." She made a face at him and his smile widened.

"How on earth did you make that 'ritual' sound believable?"

"I have my ways," he said lightly, "And Simon is very gullible."

"You really should lighten up on him. He trusts you to train him."

"And I am. Besides, after tomorrow, I'll have fewer reasons to pick on him."

"So you're getting it all out of your system now." It wasn't a question.

Jace grinned again. "Precisely."

* * *

"Are you scared?" Isabelle asked suddenly. Simon looked over at her. He had been leaning casually enough against the counter, a few feet to her left. Isabelle stood in front of the stove, stirring _something _in a pot as it boiled. She had been quiet since he'd entered unannounced, and Simon had been beginning to wonder if she hadn't noticed his presence.

But Izzy was a skilled Shadowhunter and he, despite having trained incredibly hard over the past 2 weeks, was a still just a mundane- not nearly stealthy enough to sneak up on her, or any of them, yet; of course she knew. And Simon didn't have to ask to know what she meant.

He'd meant to come in here and gripe about what a lying, cheating _(Insert Naughty Word Here)_ her brother was, but now he paused for a few seconds, thinking about it, before answering. "I don't know," he told her honestly, "Maybe." And it was true; he really didn't know. Ascension was a risky process, especially for someone as old as Simon was. Most Ascensions occurred between ten and twelve years of age, and the older one was, the more dangerous the process became. And Simon, despite having been told on numerous occasions that he was an excellent candidate, was seventeen.

Isabelle looked at him for the first time, setting the wooden spoon in her hand down. "What do you mean, 'Maybe'? It was a yes or no question, Simon."

Simon looked at her for a second before looking down at the floor with a sigh. "I don't know," he said again, "I guess I am, a little, but I still want it. I want to become a Shadowhunter." He met her eyes again, "And I want to be with you."

Isabelle still looked unsettled. "You don't have to be a Shadowhunter to be with me," she said evenly.

"I think it's fairly obvious by now that I do, Izzy. For the long term, anyway." Isabelle had looked down in the middle of his sentence. She looked back at him again after he finished, and Simon could see tears forming in her eyes, despite her obvious efforts to remain composed. Seeing her that way made his chest tighten with both guilt and a colossal desire to make her feel better. "Isabelle," he said softly, half-sighing her name. He opened his arms to her, "Come here."

She met his eyes again, looking at him. A slight defiance flashed in her eyes before disappearing quickly and she began moving toward him, apparently giving in. The distance closed between them and Simon wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face in his shoulder. "It's okay," he murmured in her ear.

"I can't lose you," she said, her voice slightly muffled by his T-shirt.

"You won't lose me."

"You don't know that," she countered, pulling away slightly to see his face. He was only slightly taller than she was, so she hardly had to crane her neck at all to accomplish it. "You don't know what will happen tomorrow." She looked away from him again, eyes landing on his collarbone and staying there.

"Hey," Simon said gently, lifting her chin with his hand, "Look at me. It'll be okay. I'll be okay. I won't let anything happen to me, okay?"

"There's nothing that great about being Nephilim," Isabelle protested.

"I have to, Izzy. You know I have to. I either take the risk and Ascend or I wait until Asmodeus finds out I remember again and comes after me. And I'd rather not wait for that if it can be avoided." Isabelle looked at him for another second before looking away again. She knew he was right. Simon knew it.

"I can't lose you too," she repeated in a whisper. Simon didn't reply, instead taking her face in his hands and kissing her gently, the only reassurance he could give her that might mean something.

"I love you," he told her softly.

"I know," she answered and allowed him to pull her close, enveloping her again in a hug.

"You okay?" He asked after a minute. She nodded. "Good," Simon said, "Because your food is burning." It was true. The pot she had left on the stove was smoking and filling the room with an odd burning smell, so much so that he was kind of surprised Isabelle hadn't noticed yet.

She pulled away from him, a curse escaping her lips as she whirled on the stove and removed the pot from the stovetop, moving it to the sink and turning the water on.

Jace appeared in the doorway then, seemingly out of thin air, with Clary next to him. He strode confidently into the room. "I'm assuming," he announced, eyes fixated on Izzy's failed attempt at lunch, "That this means I will no longer be required to eat whatever that was supposed to be?" Isabelle just shot him a look. Jace, grinning, turned to Simon. "Alec just called," he informed him, holding up his cell phone still in-hand, "Magnus wants an update on your mental status."

"Well," Simon said thoughtfully, leaning back against the counter once more, "You can tell him that as far as I can tell, no demons have been harassing me in my sleep. Though I did have a weird dream about Power Rangers the other night. I'm still not really sure what that was all about." Jace looked at him blankly while Clary, beside him, smiled amusedly.

Jace looked at her. "Should I be concerned?" he asked.

Clary, smiling wider now, shook her head. "There's not much demonic about Power Rangers," she told her boyfriend, sharing a knowing look with Simon.

Jace just looked between the two of them for a minute before looking over at Isabelle, who stood by the sink. She shrugged. He sighed dramatically and brought the phone to his ear. "I have no idea what he's talking about," he reported into it, "But that's pretty normal for him. Clary says he's fine." With that, Jace ended the call, sliding the phone into his pocket.

He gave Simon one last measured look, before grabbing Clary's hand and leading her out of the kitchen. "We're going to Taki's," he called over his shoulder, "Feel free to join us." Clary, green eyes still betraying her amusement, shot Simon one last laughing look and allowed herself to be led out.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I present to you chapter 4!**

**So the lines from the Ascension ceremony are the same lines from Sophie's Ascension in Clockwork Princess, so its all accurate and word for word. **

**My favorite chapter so far. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Simon stood in one of the many rooms of the Gard in Alicante, staring out the window at the city, its demon towers rising high in the distance. They had arrived in Idris early that morning and almost everything after that had been a blur.

His Ascension was today. He wore gear, black and stiff in its newness. He could hear people, muted voices, outside the door, farther down the hall, where they would all be gathering in the Council room for the ceremony. Simon had been instructed to wait in here until it was time, and he was kind of glad for that now. It gave him some time alone, to think, to be nervous, to figure out how to school his expression so he could look convincingly confident enough if needed.

He didn't really know what he felt. Even with the Ascension so close, happening so soon, he didn't know how he really felt about it. He was both nervous and excited at the same time and, depending on how much and in what ways he thought about it, either one of those emotions or the other seemed to dominate his mind.

But this needed to happen. If he wanted his memories, if he wanted to stay with Isabelle and Clary and the others, he had to Ascend. He didn't have a choice. And there was no going back now anyway, even if he wanted to, which he didn't.

It _was_ strange though, thinking about it. Ever since he'd first learned about Shadowhunters; had first visited the Institute, he'd wanted to be one. And after he'd been Changed to a vampire, he'd wanted it even more, though by then, it had been impossible. Or so he'd thought. He'd never imagined he would ever actually get to become one of the Nephilim, though he'd given it more than a little thought. And now he really was.

The excitement was back.

Simon's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening behind him. His stomach flip flopped as he turned around. Was it time already? Was he _ready_? But it was only Clary, dressed also in gear, her red hair loose around her shoulders. It was odd seeing her dressed like that, in gear and unarmed. She gave him a small smile and entered, closing the door gently behind her. She stood in front of it for a moment, watching him as he watched her. "Hey," she said at last.

"Hey," he answered, looking at her through the rims of his glasses- glasses he would no longer need after the ceremony. The Voyance rune he would receive after the Ascension would render them useless, not only giving him enhanced Sight, but also improving his sight. "Are you supposed to be in here?" he asked warily.

Clary shrugged. "Probably not." She began to move forward, crossing the room so she stood closer to him. "Are you ready?"

He took a deep breath before nodding. "Yeah, I think so." He tried for a smile.

Clary laughed suddenly. "Ooh, ouch. You'd better work on that smile before you go out there. You look like you're in pain."

He gave her a sarcastic look, the first sarcasm he'd managed since coming to the Gard that morning. And that was mostly because he'd seen only a few people since then and none of them would have appreciated it. But Clary was different, and with her there, he felt almost comfortable for the first time that morning.

She returned the look right back to him and he smiled for real. She did too. "That's better," she said.

"So how many people are out there?"

"Most of Alicante," Clary answered with some hesitance, "You're the first Ascendant in a while. I guess that makes you pretty popular."

Simon nodded evenly, trying not to look intimidated. "I guess I'd better not trip then."

She smirked. "You think?" The sound of a bell echoed then- the last call for Shadowhunters to gather before the ceremony began. Clary glanced toward the door and then back at Simon. "I should probably go. Jace is saving me a seat." Simon nodded, anxiety creeping back into his stomach again. Clary looked at him for a second before hugging him. "You'll do great," she said before letting go.

A minute later, she was gone and Simon was stuck looking out the window again, counting down the last few minutes until his life would change forever.

* * *

Clary sat on one of the benches toward the front of the crowded Council room with Jace on her right, the rest of the Lightwoods next to him; and her mother on her left, Luke next to her. On the dais at the front of the room, a double circle had been drawn, and in between them were runes: of binding, of knowledge, of skill and craft; and runes that symbolized Simon's name. Clary could feel their power as she looked at them. On each end of the dais, stood a Silent Brother, still and stolid as always.

Jace held her hand in his and was rubbing soothing, seemingly absentminded, circles on it with his thumb. Despite everything, she couldn't help feeling nervous. Simon was her best friend, whom she'd known longer than anyone else in the room. She knew he'd make a fantastic Shadowhunter, but she'd feel a lot better after all of this was over.

Jace leaned closer to her. "It'll be okay," he said to her. His voice was soft, but still loud enough for her to hear above the noise in the room, "He'll be fine."

"Have you ever been to one of these before?" she asked him.

"An Ascension? No."

"Then how do you know?"

He turned and met her eyes. "Because an Ascension only doesn't work on those who are unworthy or untrained, and Simon is neither. I trained him myself. He'll be okay. Trust me." His eyes were genuine; his voice, comforting, and Clary remembered that even though Jace bickered with Simon on a nearly constant basis, they really were something of friends when it came down to it.

Jia Penhallow stood just inside the circles, wearing simple scarlet robes, her face calm and serious. She raised her hands and called for attention, and the room quickly fell quiet. The ceremony was beginning. "Thank you all who have gathered here today to witness the ancient tradition of Ascension from mundane to Nephilim," she said to the crowd. "Simon Lewis, come forward."

All eyes moved to the back of the room, to the door, almost like wedding guests would for the entrance of the wedding party. Simon appeared in the doorway and moved forward, down the middle aisle, toward the dais. Clary could see the nervous tension in the set of his jaw, and the excitement bright in his brown eyes, which met hers as he walked. She gave him what was hopefully a reassuring smile.

Simon stopped in front of the Consul, in the center of the circles, and looked at her, awaiting further instructions. "Please kneel," Jia said, and he did so. Jia picked up the Mortal Cup from a small table beside her and held it up. "Take the Cup, Simon Lewis." She lowered the Cup to him and he took it carefully from her.

"Do you swear, Simon Lewis, to forsake the mundane world and follow the path of the Shadowhunter? Will you take into yourself the blood of the Angel Raziel and honor that blood? Do you swear to serve the Clave, to follow the Law as set forth by the Covenant, and to obey the word of the Council? Will you defend that which is human and mortal, knowing that for your service there will be no recompense and no thanks but honor?" Jia asked.

"I swear," said Simon, his voice stronger than Clary would have expected.

"Can you be a shield for the weak, a light in the dark, a truth among falsehoods, a tower in the flood, an eye to see when all others are blind?"

"I can."

"And when you are dead, will you give up your body to the Nephilim to be burned, that your ashes may be used to build the City of Bones?"

"I will."

"Then drink." Clary held her breath. This was the dangerous part. Simon leaned his head back, brought the Cup to his lips, and swallowed.

The double circle surrounding Simon and the Consul lit up once suddenly in a cold, blue-white light, obscuring them both from view. Jace tightened his grip on her hand. When it faded, Clary found herself blinking the stars from the unexpected brightness out of her eyes. As her vision cleared, she could see Simon hand the cup back to Jia. She was smiling. Clary felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders and amidst it all, her eyes met Isabelle's, who looked pale, but very relieved, on the other side of Jace. The two exchanged small smiles before looking back to the dais.

"You are Nephilim now," Jia told Simon, "I name you Simon Shadowhunter, of the blood of Jonathan Shadowhunter, child of the Nephilim. Arise, Simon." Simon stood, smiling, and Jia put a hand on his shoulder and said something Clary couldn't hear. He nodded, still smiling, at her and then turned to face the crowd, which was clapping and cheering wildly.

"Believe me now?" Jace asked her, grinning, through the noise.

Clary made a face at him, but ended up smiling. "Yes," she answered, "I believe you."

* * *

Simon stood off to the side of the dais while the Consul gave the closing remarks and benediction to bring the meeting to an end. He was staring down at the back of his right hand, on which was now the black, eye-shaped Voyance rune, his first rune, which Jia had sprawled on him with a stele after he'd become a Shadowhunter. A harsh burning had registered with him for the few seconds it had taken her to draw it, and then it had been done and the burning faded, and the ceremony had been over.

He was a Shadowhunter now.

To say he didn't notice a difference would be an understatement, but it wasn't an overwhelming change either, and Simon couldn't decide whether he was grateful or disappointed with that. As soon as he'd swallowed the contents of the Mortal Cup, he'd felt a slight tingle move throughout his body, beginning at his heart and moving out through his extremities to his fingertips and toes, before disappearing. When he'd stood, he'd felt more graceful, more balanced, and stronger; all good things, but if he'd been expecting to grow muscles like the Incredible Hulk, he was sadly mistaken.

Overall though, he was satisfied with the change. He liked knowing that it was over now, that he was a Shadowhunter, and of course, that Ascension hadn't killed him. He'd taken his glasses off after the application of the Voyance rune. They were folded up now in his pocket, no longer needed, and as long as he remembered to take them out before he sat down on them, he would be alright.

"Simon!" he heard suddenly, jarring him from his thoughts for a split second before a familiar weight crashed into him. Normally, Isabelle's momentum and the force of her impact would have sent him staggering back at least a step or two, but that wasn't the case now, Simon noted with a surprised satisfaction. Isabelle hugged him, head buried in his shoulder. "Oh my God, you're okay. You're alive. Oh my God."

He tightened his arms around her, breathing in her familiar vanilla scent. "I'm alright, Izzy." She pulled back suddenly, as if noticing how much of a scene she was making, and stepped away, though not without meeting his eyes with hers, which were full of relief and withheld tears.

Simon looked then at the small crowd that had gathered around him, most of them, familiar faces: Clary, Jace, Alec, Jocelyn, Luke, and, obviously, Isabelle. But there were others too, Shadowhunters he'd seen around Alicante the few times he'd been there, but no one he knew personally. He zeroed in on Clary first and grinned at her and held out his arms, gesturing to himself. "Pretty good, huh?" he asked. She smiled and stepped forward to hug him quickly, her short stature a vast contrast to Izzy's tall one.

Jocelyn hugged him then, smiling in a motherly manner and seeming pretty relieved also. Luke shook his hand, as did Alec, and Jace- well, Jace just gave him a once-over with the usual sarcastic light in his eyes and said, "Not bad at all. Amazing what a little angel blood can do, isn't it?" He offered a smile then, possibly the first non-sarcastic smile Jace had ever given him, and despite being a little confused, Simon smiled back before Jace went to join Clary and the others again.

After that, Simon spent a good fifteen minutes shaking hands and receiving wishes of congratulation from the other Shadowhunters in the room. And, though it normally would have been kind of awkward to have to do so with so many strangers, it really wasn't that uncomfortable after all.

Nearly an hour after the Ascension ceremony ended, Simon, hand-in hand with Isabelle; Jace, Clary, and Alec left the Gard in search of somewhere to stop for lunch. And after a morning of stress, nerves, and intimidation, such a normal gesture was enough of a comfort to keep Simon from becoming too overwhelmed.

This was who he was now, a Shadowhunter, one of Heaven's chosen protectors, someone with a mandate, fighting skills, and good friends.

And that was just totally awesome.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Let me know!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! So I'm just gonna take a second here to say thanks! to all of you who have followed and favorited this story! And to those of you who reviewed! I really enjoy hearing your feedback so feel free to do so!**

**Anyway, here's another update. I'm trying to get them all posted so I can get to actually writing some new stuff. I should have through ch. 7 posted by tomorrow sometime, which is what I had previously posted before removing the story the first time. And then we'll be all caught up! Alright? Cool. To the chapter:**

* * *

"So? What d'ya think?" Simon asked, posing dramatically, "Pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah, Fantastic," Magnus replied quickly, waving his hand dismissively, "Now get out of my way, Shadowhunter. I'm not here to see you."

Normally, Simon probably would have had a sarcastic remark in response to Magnus' blowing him off so quickly, but the warlock had called him _Shadowhunter. _It was probably supposed to be insulting, but he couldn't bring himself to see it that way, not yet. He just grinned. Impatient, Magnus pushed past him, in search of Alec, no doubt.

It was the morning after Simon's Ascension, and the Shadowhunters of New York, which now included him, were just arriving back. They had spent the night in Idris. Simon had stayed with Clary and her parents in the house that had once belonged to Amatis. That had been really the only thing that had been other than happy that day. The aura of sadness that still seemed to surround the little house had gotten to everyone, breaking through Simon's euphoria. It was strange how becoming a Shadowhunter had made him so much more sensitive to the loss the Nephilim had suffered just months earlier. It was making him appreciate how much of a family they all really were, albeit a dysfunctional one.

Simon turned around to look at the Portal through which he had just come, lost in thought. Jocelyn and Luke had gone through first, followed by Clary, then Jace, and then Simon had followed. The others were still coming through; Isabelle and Alec had appeared together. The latter had immediately separated from his sister and gone to greet Magnus who, along with being there to close the portal, had been waiting for him alone. Maryse would follow soon behind her children; the last to come through, as Robert would be staying in Idris again, a fact Isabelle wasn't particularly pleased with, though she seemed to be slowly coming to terms with her parents' separation.

A hand gripping his broke him from his staring. Isabelle stood next to him, eyeing his expression. "You okay?" she asked.

He smiled at her, "Never better." She smiled back. Since the Ascension, Izzy had seemed lighter somehow, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; one Simon hadn't noticed she'd been carrying until after it was gone. He supposed he was going to have to work on his perception skills, now that the two of them were together on a more permanent basis.

"So, you remember your way around the Institute, newbie, or do you want an official tour?" Jace asked, coming up from behind Simon, Clary in tow. Simon glanced up at the huge Institute, its dark spires stretching up above it. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to head inside and begin training again, this time with the added benefits of actually being a Shadowhunter, but he had other commitments that were, unfortunately, a bit more important than his own enjoyment. He pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked it on to check the time.

"I would," he answered, "but I'm kinda supposed to be back from my 'school trip' by nine." He made air quotes with his fingers. "My mom's already suspicious enough with all the time I spend away from home. Probably better not push it."

Isabelle squeezed Simon's hand lightly and Clary gave him a sympathetic look. Even Jace seemed lacking in sarcastic comebacks for the moment, which was probably a first. They knew Simon's situation at home was complicated. It had been complicated for a while. Eventually, his mom would probably have to know the truth. Simon knew this, but he was chicken enough to hope it wouldn't come to that for a while. _He _needed to get used to the idea of being a Shadowhunter first, before he could even think of explaining it to anyone else.

"Do you want a ride, Simon?" Luke asked, having overheard, "We can drop you off."

"Yeah, sure," Simon answered, "That would be great."

"Meet us by the truck," Luke said to both Simon and Clary, who still stood by them.

Simon nodded and turned to face Isabelle again as Luke and Jocelyn walked away. "I'll call you," he promised. Izzy nodded. He was acutely aware of Jace and Clary walking away from them, maybe to give them some privacy, though he doubted it.

"Will I see you later?" Isabelle asked.

"I'll-yeah. Yeah, probably." He didn't want to answer too quickly, but he couldn't say no. He'd been putting off a lot of things that had used to be priorities to him, like his band, for instance, but those things just didn't seem to matter so much anymore. He supposed he would just have to learn how to balance everything, and soon. Of course, he wasn't undead anymore; that had to count for something. It would be slightly easier to blend in for the long run now that he was aging again.

"Okay," Isabelle replied. Simon pecked her lips quickly before letting her hand go.

"See you later." She nodded and offered a small smile as he turned and walked away to catch up to Clary, who was also heading to Luke's truck, parked around the side of the Institute.

* * *

The ride home was a normal one, almost too normal after the events of the past twenty-four hours. Clary and Simon spoke about Manga, naturally. It was one of their favorite mundane topics. She spent most of the ride explaining the synopsis of the latest edition of _Naruto_, which he hadn't had a chance to read yet. Jocelyn and Luke were absorbed in their own quiet conversation, paying them little attention.

When she was finished, Simon looked at her with a dubious expression. "I thought you were just as behind as I was. After you became a Shadowhunter, wasn't all your time spent training?"

Clary shrugged, suddenly somber, "Things calmed down after the war. I had six months without my best friend to occupy my free time… I caught up." She looked up, trying for a smile, "Remember last year when you said I never drew anymore except with a stele? That's not true anymore either."

Simon looked at her, his joking expression back, "And I'm sure most of the drawings are of Jace."

Clary shrugged, smirking. "Some of them. Most of them… are of you though." Clary watched the expression on her best friend's face. Since he'd come back, they didn't speak much of those six months after the war, easily the worst six months of her life. At first, she'd tried to rid herself of things that had reminded her of Simon, figuring that if he couldn't remember her, she might as well try to forget him too. She'd quickly given up. There was just too much that reminded her of him.

After that, she'd set to getting back into the things the two of them had used to love. She'd begun drawing again, though most of the time, regardless of what her original inspiration had been, she'd found herself sketching out the familiar outlines of the face of her best friend. Remembering him had, for a while, been a sort of coping mechanism for her; the only one she'd really had aside from Jace's comforting arms wrapping around her.

Simon opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed unable to produce the words. "Don't say anything, Simon. You don't have to," Clary told him, "You're here now. That's what matters." He just nodded and reached over to intertwine his fingers with hers- another friendly gesture of his she'd missed so much. She squeezed his hand back, glancing down at the eye-shaped Voyance rune on his hand. That was something she'd have to get used to: Simon with runes; Simon as a Shadowhunter.

"So," Simon spoke again as Luke turned into his familiar Brooklyn neighborhood, "Eric keeps calling me. He wants to get the band together. I'm thinking maybe I'll call him back and we can get together tomorrow afternoon. Wanna come?"

Clary smiled, "Don't you think that might be weird? This best friend of yours that they've never met, or at least they don't remember meeting?"

He shrugged, "They'll be meeting you now. Better late than-" Simon cut off abruptly, staring out the window with a look of horrified shock written across his face. Clary followed his gaze, shifting into Shadowhunter mode…

And stared.

They'd arrived at Simon's house, only it didn't look quite the same way it had when she'd last been to it-about three days ago to walk with him to the Institute. No, it looked the way it had looked over six months ago, before the war with Sebastian, before Asmodeus had made Simon human again and stolen his memories.

The door was covered in painted-on signs: Stars of David and other Jewish holy symbols. Luke had stopped the truck, barely out of the middle of the road. The four of them stared in horror-struck silence.

No one said anything, but Clary's mind was moving a mile a minute. She knew what was going on. She didn't want to believe it.

Asmodeus knew. He'd found out what they'd done, what Magnus had done. His own son's protection spells had kept him from getting to Simon; or maybe he'd just figured it out too late and Simon had already become a Shadowhunter. Either way, he couldn't get to Simon anymore.

They'd all thought that was enough, that once Simon was safe, that would be the end of it. Or they'd hoped, at least. They'd been wrong. So wrong.

Simon wasn't the only one whose memories the Prince of Hell had taken. He'd taken the memories from everyone who'd known Simon was a vampire. And now, Asmodeus had given all those memories back. Simon's mother hated him again.

Clary still held Simon's hand in hers, as he now sat frozen, gaping openly in shock, all the color gone from his face. She squeezed it tightly, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do now.

* * *

**Dun dun dunnnn!**

**Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys. Me again. Hope you guys are enjoying this so far.**

**Could you do something for me? I want to make sure people are actually reading this story and I'm not just writing it for nothing. Would you mind just leaving a review after you read this chapter so I know people are seeing it? I feel like nobody is... So, yeah, if you could do that, that would be great. I don't typically ask stuff like this but, just this once, I am. So thanks a lot. :)**

**Anyway, here is chapter 6. It's a tad bit shorter than usual, but hopefully you like it anyway.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Isabelle watched the scene before her, feeling useless, as Magnus paced back and forth in the library while the rest of them sat or stood around, trying to figure out what to do. She was trying to pay attention to what everyone, mainly Maryse, Jace, Magnus, and occasionally Luke, was saying, but the discussion didn't really seem to be getting anywhere. After Simon and Clary had finished explaining what they'd found upon arriving at his house, the conversation had been along the lines of _this is bad; we have to do something,_ and had pretty much stayed there, mainly because no one, not even Magnus, had the slightest idea of what they should, or even _could_, do. After a while of not getting anywhere, and of having no ideas herself, Isabelle's thoughts had drifted slightly.

She couldn't help but keep glancing over at Simon, who stood almost diagonal from her in the dilapidated circle the group: Alec, Jace, Clary, herself, Simon, Magnus, Maryse, Luke, and Jocelyn, had formed. Everyone else, save Magnus, sat or leaned on something, but Simon just stood, looking distraught, like he had neither the patience to sit, nor the energy to pace or fidget. And he looked so distant; Isabelle doubted he was listening either. Looking at him, it was hard to believe that just over an hour earlier he'd been so happy.

"I think," Jace cut in, breaking through Isabelle's reverie, "He should just go back and talk to his mom."

"He tried," Clary protested on Simon's behalf, "If she won't let him in-"

"Use an opening rune. What's the worst thing she can do? All she has to do is _see _him. And the fact that he's _not_ actually a vampire anymore can only help his cause."

"That's not the-" Simon began, speaking up for the first time in a while.

Magnus interrupted him, "That still doesn't solve the actual problem. The situation with Simon's mother is just a side-effect. You have a _prince of Hell _against you. You've got bigger problems. We all do."

"What if I went?" Clary offered, "If Elaine remembers everything with Simon, she remembers me now too. She might listen to me." Magnus looked about to speak up, but Clary continued, speaking louder and quicker to keep from being interrupted, "It's not a solution to the whole Asmodeus thing, I know, but it's a start. It's one less thing we'll have to worry about."

"And what excuse will you give for your absence over the past months?" Alec asked. "Simon's not the only one who's stayed away from that house recently. And you're 'tattoos'? And what about-"

"I don't know," Clary cut him off, "But technically, my well-being isn't her responsibility. I could make something up or avoid it. This is about Simon, not me."

"We'll have to tell her the truth," Simon said, looking and speaking up, "Someone will have to. It's the only way."

Maryse began to protest, "No, it's-"

"He has a point," Isabelle said, "Obviously Simon isn't a vampire anymore, but he is _something._ His mom's bound to know that. I doubt she's that stupid."

"The Clave-" Maryse began again. Isabelle continued.

"Simon is a Shadowhunter now. The Clave can't honestly expect him to keep that from his own mother. Especially if he's still living with her. The oath says we can't tell mundanes the truth unless there's no other way. And I don't know about any of you, but I'm not seeing any other possibilities."

The room had gone satisfyingly quiet. It was clear that Isabelle's point had been made and it seemed that the others, at least partially, agreed with her. Everyone was looking at Maryse now. As the head of the Institute, it was ultimately her decision. The Clave would hold her responsible for any Covenant law broken. Maryse looked around at everyone before sighing, "Okay. I'll speak to Jia. But Elaine Lewis must be the only one who knows-"

"What about Rebecca?" Simon asked, looking a bit hopeful now, "She knew more than my mom…"

"Fine," Maryse said sharply, "His mother and his sister. That's all. And you must make sure they tell no one. The Clave will be unhappy as it is. We don't need any more scrutiny then we already have."

With that, the meeting was apparently over, because Maryse left the library and everyone else seemed satisfied with the progress made for now. Even Magnus looked uninterested in continuing the Asmodeus discussion for the moment.

* * *

Clary stared absently out the window as Luke drove back through the familiar Brooklyn neighborhood, going over the plan again and again in her head; what she would say to Simon's mom, how she would word her explanation, how she would tell Elaine the truth, the backup plan, the backup plan for the backup plan…

In the end, it was decided that Luke and Jocelyn would bring Simon and Clary to Simon's house. Clary would go in first because she would most likely be allowed inside (and she had excuses waiting to use if she wasn't). She would bring up Simon in the conversation and eventually explain the truth. Then, Simon would hopefully be allowed to come in. Luke and Jocelyn would be there to verify the story if needed. And Isabelle, who had insisted on coming, would also be further proof.

The plan itself was a straightforward one, but it still seemed complicated in the sense that things never seemed to go as intended, which required lots of plan Bs. And Cs…

They were almost at Simon's house now. Clary looked away from the window and at Simon, who sat on the other side of Isabelle-the three of them were crammed together in the back seat of Luke's truck. He looked less shell-shocked than he had, even a little hopeful, though the emotion was clearly guarded. His attention was forward, out the front window, watching the road. Clary met Isabelle's eyes for a moment before turning back to the window. The ride had been, and continued to be, a quiet one.

Luke pulled onto Simon's street and parallel-parked a few houses away from his. No need to draw unnecessary suspicion from Elaine as to the extra people waiting in the back seat. Clary took a deep breath and unbuckled her seat belt. "Here goes nothing," she said quietly and opened her door. As she stepped out, she felt Simon's eyes on her and looked up to meet them. He offered her the tiniest of smiles, one that didn't reach his eyes. She gave him a small smile of her own in reply.

"Good luck," Izzy offered.

"Thanks," Clary answered and shut the door. Squaring her shoulders, she began walking, feeling the four sets of eyes on her as she did so.

They were playing with fire here, crossing a prince of Hell. They all knew that. And it probably wouldn't be without at least some consequences. They all knew that too.

But they had to try. Clary, if no one else, had to help Simon. He was her best friend and she would do anything for him. Especially after having lost him completely for 6 months.

She didn't know much specifically about Asmodeus, or of princes of Hell in general, but what she did know was that they were powerful and ruthless, and almost impossible to defeat. Lovely. But the same had once been said about Sebastian-and worse, and they'd won out against him. And Magnus was Asmodeus' son. That had to count for something. So there was still hope, right? There had to be.

Clary ran these things through her mind as she neared the front door of the house she'd spent so much time in over the years. She couldn't decide if that was true or if she was simply deluding herself. Returning everyone's memories was surely not all they'd see of Asmodeus. Surely that was just a sign that he knew what they'd done; a reminder of who it was they were dealing with.

_But Simon was her best friend._ Everything she'd done, she'd done for him. And she would do it again. That was just how it was.

She climbed the front steps that led to the familiar front door, covered in the red holy symbols that Elaine Lewis had painted on to keep her son out of her house. The small jolt of anger the reminder sent surging quickly through her was enough to keep her courage from failing her-stupid, really, after everything else she'd done.

Clary took a deep breath, knocked loudly on the front door, and waited.

* * *

**So this is the point where things get a little more exciting. Stay tuned!**

**And also, before you go, please review so I can know that people are actually seeing these chapters. Thanks!**

**And thanks for reading, of course! See you next time. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! Thanks so much to those of you who left reviews last chapter. I really appreciate it! I truly love hearing your feedback. :)**

**Anyway, so here is chapter 7, and after this, we will be ALL CAUGHT UP! So I will actually be writing the chapters following this one, as opposed to just revising/editing... Yay! (Okay, maybe that isn't very exciting for you, but I think it's pretty great. Don't mind me.) :D**

**And now, I present chapter 7. Enjoy!**

* * *

Simon didn't know what to feel as he sat in the backseat of Luke's pickup truck, watching his best friend as she walked away from them, toward his house, to talk to his mom on his behalf. Hopefully, within the hour, he could be on better terms with his mother than he'd been in almost a year, not including his six months of forced amnesia, courtesy of Asmodeus, in which he'd known nothing more about the Shadow World than she had. She would know the truth, the _real _truth. Simon wouldn't have to hide anything anymore.

It seemed almost too good to be true.

He kept running the events of that morning, only a little over two hours earlier, through his head. The first time they'd arrived at his house, after they'd all looked between the door and each other with similar looks of horror on their faces, Simon had managed to get out of the truck and forced his limbs to carry him up the familiar sidewalk and to the front door, once again a front door he was not allowed through. He'd banged on it, the holy symbols not having any affect on his skin, and shouted for his mom to let him in. His key no longer worked to open it-she'd changed locks. He'd stood there for a good ten minutes until, finally, he was met with the only response he would get from his mother that morning, "Go away, you monster!"

At those four words, his resolve had shattered and he'd found himself walking away from the door and back toward the truck where his best friend and her parents waited for him with both sympathy and fear written on their faces; sympathy for him and fear for what it meant for everyone else.

He'd been numb during and immediately after that. He'd barely registered as Luke pulled away and drove right back to the Institute; Clary's concerned expression, her hand on his arm, Isabelle's dark eyes lit with confusion, everyone gathering in the library. Clary had been halfway through explaining what had happened by the time the fog lifted, leaving in its wake a deep pain at yet again having lost his mother. And worse still, because her reason for hating him was no longer valid, but he had no way to convince her otherwise.

The pain had been replaced with an almost-hope once some semblance of a plan had been discussed and it seemed that his mom would learn the truth. He didn't want to get his hopes up, not too much, not yet. Their plan was not flawless and things could still go very, very wrong, especially with a prince of Hell up against them; and yet, he couldn't help himself. A tiny shred of hope had ignited inside him, just enough to keep him from a depressing place, and though he was scared of what the repercussions would be if things didn't work out, he couldn't find it in himself to let go of it.

Even now, as he sat in the truck, waiting, as Clary went to bat for him, Simon held on to that tiny bit of hope that this would work. He didn't see any other choice. He wasn't a vampire anymore and, though he wasn't completely human anymore either, he couldn't bear to go through life with his mother hating him for being some monster that he wasn't; one that, when it really came down to it, he'd never been in the first place.

Simon held his breath as Clary mounted the steps and knocked on the door. This had to work. For the sake of his lingering sanity, it just had to.

* * *

Clary waited for about a minute before knocking on the front door a second time and waiting some more. She was about to knock a third time when, finally, she head the familiar voice of Elaine Lewis ask timidly from the other side, "Who is it?" She sounded haggard and upset, almost scared of what the answer would be. Clearly this hatred she felt for Simon, or whoever it was she thought he was now, didn't stop her from longing for and grieving over her son.

"Elaine?" Clary called through the still-closed door, hoping Simon's mother was still friendly enough with her for the first-name basis, "Its Clary." The thought crossed her mind suddenly that it was possible that Asmodeus had only returned some of Elaine's memories and not others, meaning Simon's mother could have no idea who she was still. She hoped against all hope that that was not the case. That would've made things even more impossibly difficult.

To Clary's relief, the door before her opened almost too quickly to reveal the familiar frame of Elaine Lewis. "Clary?" the older woman breathed in a strange mixture of what sounded like surprise and relief. She pulled Clary into a hug before she could say anything, speaking quickly as if the teenager would disappear at any moment. "Oh, where have you _been_? It's been so long! I thought something had happened to you too! Just like-" Her words faltered for a moment, "Oh, Clary, it's terrible! Simon! My little boy!" She was crying as she let go of the younger girl and stepped back to wordlessly invite her inside.

Deciding it was probably better to play dumb, Clary stepped inside and wore what she hoped looked like a genuine expression of confusion and worry. "What happened to Simon?" she asked. Better to let Elaine explain what she thought was the truth than to let her know that Clary had been associating with her son's "murderer." Simon's mother just looked at her for a few seconds, giving her a once-over, her eyes lingering on the exposed runes on Clary's arms and neck (there was only so much skin you could cover in the summer before you just looked strange).

Looking at Clary, Elaine's tears dried momentarily, the pain and loss in her eyes turning to shock and slight horror at the many "tattoos" and scars Clary had taken on in such a short time. "Clary," she spoke, not answering her question, "What happened to you? What's with…? You-"

"I know," Clary interrupted, "I'll explain. But tell me what happened to Simon?" She took on a more urgent, frantic tone at the end, hoping her acting skills were good enough to pull this off.

Elaine looked down, her eyes immediately wet again. "He's gone," she choked out after a few seconds, "Simon's gone."

"What do you mean 'he's gone'?" Clary asked as Elaine collapsed into the closest chair. She felt kind of bad for not stopping her pain when she so easily could, when the truth would make it better.

"Gone," Simon's mother repeated, "He's dead." She looked up at Clary then, who still stood before her. There was a sudden ferociousness in her eyes now, a fury plain as day. "He was murdered, Clary," she said, her voice stronger now, steady in her rage. "A monster stole him from me. He stole him and killed him, and now he walks around, wearing my little boy's face and tormenting me by knocking on my door, trying to get in during the day, and haunting my dreams at night." Tears streamed steadily down Elaine's face now and her anger, which seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright, vanished just as quickly as it had come, leaving her slumped in her chair, a broken, sobbing picture before Clary. She was suddenly very glad her best friend couldn't see this.

Clary couldn't watch this anymore. Now was as good a time as any to break it to her. In fact, it was now or never as far as she was concerned. "That's not true," she said gently, crouching down by Elaine's side, "Simon isn't dead."

The older woman kept her face in her hands. "Yes, he is," she argued through the tears.

"No," Clary said, shaking her head. She put her hand on Elaine's arm until she looked up at her, "He's not. I've seen him."

Elaine shook her head, her expression softening slightly, like she was the one reasoning with a misled Clary and not the other way around. "It wasn't him, honey." _Sniff._ "The monster wears his face. He looks and talks just like him. He fooled me, his own mother. I'm sorry-"

"No," Clary said, shaking her head. Elaine looked like she was going to interrupt again, but Clary spoke up first. "Look, do you trust me?"

"Yes, but sweetie-"

"Just listen," Clary interrupted, regretting her rudeness despite its necessity, "You need to hear the truth." She stood up again, looking at Simon's mother who watched her; finally quiet, though looking puzzled now. "Me, my mom, Simon, we're not what you think we are." She held up both hands when Elaine began to speak up again. "Just listen. Please. We're not what you think we are, but Simon _is not dead._ And he's not a monster. I promise he isn't."

"But he had bottles of blood. And he never ate. That monster-"

"I know. I know. It's a long story, but I'll explain everything. I promise." And she did. She told Elaine the quick version of everything. Her mother's disappearance. Being Valentine's daughter (she left out everything about the Circle, describing him only as 'a very evil Shadowhunter'). Simon becoming a vampire. The battle in Idris. Sebastian. The Mark of Cain. Their trip to Eden. Simon's sacrifice to get them all out again. Those terrible, _terrible _six months. And finally, Simon's recent Ascension.

She didn't get into very much detail where it wasn't necessary, better not to give the Clave any more reason to be upset, but by the end of the story, Elaine knew everything she needed to. Her tears had long since dried, the only remaining evidence of her breakdown being her red, puffy eyes. She was quiet, not meeting Clary's eyes.

Clary stood there in front of her for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her to say something or do something. Waiting for her to begin _breathing _again. Eventually, _finally, _she looked at Clary again, her eyes lingering once more on the Marks on her arms, which she now knew to be runes. Her eyes trailed up to Clary's face. She stared at her for another minute. Finally she spoke, "So Simon is a… shadow hunter…? And you?"

Clary nodded. Elaine looked to the floor again. "Do you believe me?" Clary asked. Slowly, hesitantly, Elaine nodded, eyes still on the carpet at her feet. After another moment, Clary spoke again. "Do you want me to go?"

Simon's mother stood up quickly, holding her arms out toward Clary as if to grab her. "No! No, please. I'm fine. I-" She took a long, deep breath. "Please stay."

It was the most desperate state Clary had ever seen Elaine Lewis in. Slowly, meeting the older woman's eyes, she nodded. "Okay."

Elaine nodded too. "Okay," she repeated after another few seconds and sat back down. Her eyes landed on Clary's arms again. "So those tattoos…?"

"Runes," Clary confirmed, her voice gentle. She was careful not to make any sudden moves or do anything that might further aggravate Elaine. The poor woman already looked on the verge of going into shock.

She simply nodded though. "…And they… protect you?"

"Some of them, yeah. They all do different things."

Elaine nodded again and then leveled Clary with a more collected look. "Your mother knows?"

Clary could help the smile that went to her lips there. Once a mom, always a mom. "Yeah," she answered, "She does."

Elaine nodded again, looking slightly less shell-shocked. After thirty seconds of awkward silence, Clary asked, "Do you, um, do you want to see Simon?"

Her head snapped up again. "He's here?"

Clary nodded. "He's outside. With my parents. And his-and another Shadowhunter." Elaine's eyes darted toward the window that looked out over the road, but, of course, the drapes were still closed. She looked back to Clary, took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Wait!" she said suddenly and Clary, pulling her phone from her pocket, froze. "Has he… _changed _much? Now that he's… you know...?"

Clary's smile was genuine now. "No," she assured her, "He hasn't changed at all."

* * *

**So? What'd ya think?  
**

**Next chapter will have some Clace in it! I know at least a few of you have been wanting some of that. And I'm actually almost finished with it, so I should have an update by... tomorrow? Tentatively. We shall see. :)**

**Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Until next time...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! So here's chapter 8! The first update I've actually written recently! **

**Thank you to everyone who left a review last chapter! I really enjoyed reading them!**

* * *

Simon's head was pounding, his pulse reverberating within it with each rapid beat of his heart, and his hands, clenched tightly in fists to hide their shaking, were sweaty. He, despite his best efforts, was pretty much in total freak out mode.

This was it. So much depended on what was happening right now inside his house, between his best friend and his mother, the latter of which, for the moment anyway, hated him.

It felt like an eternity had passed since Clary had gone inside, not at all helped by the heavy silence that had dominated the inside of Luke's truck since, though a small part of Simon, the only part that was still being reasonable, knew it had really only been ten minutes or so. _Calm down! _He mentally scolded himself. He knew, in that small, reasonable part of his mind, that being so nervous over this, after everything else he'd been through, everything he now _remembered _he'd been through, was sort of ridiculous. Then again, this wasn't like all those other things. This had nothing to do with demons, or Shadowhunters, or the Shadow World at all. Not really. This was his mother they were talking about. He had finally gotten everything he'd wanted recently. He had back his friends, his memory, his girlfriend, and what had, prior to the six months he'd spent with greater-demon-induced Amnesia, become his life. But his mom had been there before any of that, even before Clary, whom he'd known forever. And if he couldn't have her, he honestly didn't know what he'd do. Friends were one thing; his mom was a complete other.

Isabelle placed a hand gently on his leg, a solely comforting gesture, breaking Simon from his thoughts. He met her dark eyes and could clearly read the message in them: _It'll be okay._ He just nodded and looked back straight ahead again, though not before entwining his fingers with hers in thanks. He did feel slightly better. Just slightly.

His phone rang before he could drive himself any crazier. As it was, it still make him start a little, and he whipped it out of his pocket faster than he thought possible-new Shadowhunter reflexes are good for something- and confirmed the Caller ID before bringing it to his ear, noting that everyone had turned to look at him in expectation as he did so. "Hello?" he answered.

"Hey," Clary said. She sounded like she was smiling. A good sign. "So, do you want to come inside?"

His heart jolted. "Am-I allowed?" Alright, stupid question, but he was pretty shocked.

Clary must have agreed because she gave a laugh. "Um, yes, Simon. Obviously."

Simon blinked, and then allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Okay. Be right there."

"See you," she said and hung up. He took a deep breath, slipped the phone back in his pocket, offered a small smile to the three sets of eyes still looking at him, and squeezed Izzy's hand briefly before letting it go. "Here goes nothing," he said, and got out of the truck.

He stopped when he reached the front door, debating on whether to knock or just walk in. He did, after all, live here. Or had. He decided on both, knocking first and then turning the knob and slowly swinging the door open.

Simon stopped and stood in the doorway, staring into the living room a few feet away from him, where Clary and, more importantly, his mother, stood looking back at him. The latter seemed frozen in place, staring, wide-eyed, at him. Everything was still and silent for a three count, and then Elaine, tears springing into her already puffy eyes, shot forward, toward Simon, and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I love you, honey. I'm so sorry." She repeated the words again and again like a mantra. "I'm so sorry."

Simon hugged her back, relief flooding through him, and fought the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes. "It's okay, Mom," he replied after a second, interrupting another string of apologies.

She let him go after another thirty seconds or so and stepped back a little, looking him up and down as if looking for some drastic physical change in him, but aside from the Voyance rune on the back of his right hand and his lack of glasses, she apparently didn't find any, which seemed to relieve her.

"Now" she said, her voice steadier than it had been a minute earlier, "You have some _serious _explaining to do."

Simon just smiled.

* * *

Clary couldn't help but smile contentedly as Luke turned into the driveway of their house and parked, relieved that the whole thing had gone so smoothly. Few things ever did.

She had stood in the Lewis' living room, watching the "reunion" with a smile. Clary had already explained everything vital to Elaine, saving Simon from having to do so. She seemed to just want reassurance from him that he was okay, and plead for his forgiveness, which he easily gave to her. Had Clary been in his position, even under the circumstances, she wasn't sure she would have been able to forgive so effortlessly. But then Simon had always been a better person than she was.

After everything between the two had been sorted out, Elaine had gotten to meet Isabelle, whom she seemed pleasantly surprised by. And, for that small moment, not including the small fact that they had an angry prince of Hell out to get them all, all was right in the world again.

Luke and Jocelyn were engrossed in their own conversation, having already been brought up to date on what had happened in Simon's home. Clary followed them inside and made her way to her bedroom while they went in the opposite direction. Elaine had invited the three of them, along with Isabelle, to stay for lunch, but Isabelle was the only one who had ended up doing so. The rest of them hadn't been home since traveling to Idris for Simon's Ascension the previous day, and Clary, though she loved Simon's mother, had just wanted to get home. And besides, it would give Elaine a chance to get to know Izzy, since it looked like she and Simon were sort of a done deal now.

Upon entering her room, Clary found a note on her bed, from Jace, telling her to meet him in Central Park at 3:00. She smiled and glanced at her alarm clock. It was two-thirty now. She changed, trading her gear jacket for a T-shirt and brushed her hair out. Once she deemed herself presentable, she proceeded to make her way out of her room and toward the kitchen, where Luke and Jocelyn were still talking, though the subject seemed to have changed to one a bit more private, judging from the looks they were giving each other and the smirks they both wore. She made her presence known quickly. "I'm heading out."

Jocelyn looked at her. "Where are you going?"

"Central Park."

Clary's mother looked at her for a few seconds, obviously knowing whom she would be with, and then said simply, "Be home by 8," throwing a stern look her way for good measure. Jocelyn had long since accepted Clary's new life as a Shadowhunter, as well as her relationship with Jace, which was much less complicated, now that evil kidnapping brothers and possessing demons were out of the picture. Still, Clary knew not to push it with the whole curfew thing.

"Okay," she replied, "Bye." She heard her parents' echoing 'bye' after her, muffled, as she headed toward the door.

It was early July and summer was in full swing; the afternoon sun bearing down, causing sweat to spring up on Clary's forehead as she walked. It had been about a month since Simon had come back into her life, and so much had changed in that time. Normally, an Ascension took much longer, however a necessary exception had been made for him, given the circumstances.

Fifteen minutes and a short subway ride later; Clary was walking down the familiar sidewalk in Central Park, toward the clearing that had become their own as of late. They always met up there.

Jace was waiting for her, leaning back on his hands atop a dull blue blanket he had obviously laid out in the grass, the summer sun turning his hair the color of gold. He was dressed casually, almost normally, in cargo shorts and a black T-shirt. He smiled when he saw her, white teeth adding to the study of white and gold that was his face. Clary couldn't help but smile back.

"I see you got my letter," he said smugly, "Though I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"I'm only, like, five minutes late," Clary protested, sitting down beside him on the blanket. Even so, she'd gotten there in record time.

"Precisely," he continued, "Which means I had to wait five minutes longer to do this." He brought his lips to hers.

"I see I've caused you an unspeakable injustice," she said with a grin after they pulled apart a minute later.

"My thoughts exactly," Jace replied. He smiled at her for another few seconds, before reaching over and grabbing a plastic bag she hadn't noticed before, filled with white takeout containers, and proceeding to unpack it, laying the contents out on the blanket in front of them. "I figured," he explained as he worked, "You wouldn't have gotten a chance to eat, being as you've been dealing with the Simon situation all afternoon, so I stopped at Taki's on the way here."

Clary watched him with a smile. She loved this side of Jace the most; the caring, concerned boyfriend who thought about her well being above all else. "You figure correctly," she answered. Jace shot her the crooked smile she loved and produced paper plates and plastic ware, handing a set to her.

"Speaking of Simon," Jace spoke again a minute later as the two of them ate: French fries, and spaghetti, pancakes, and other foods that really didn't go together, but were very good nonetheless, "How did everything go with his mother today?"

Clary swallowed the food in her mouth and smiled a little, "Good. Really good, all things considered."

"You told her?"

She nodded. "She took it pretty well, I think."

He looked at her. "Was there screaming involved? Running away? Passing out?"

She gave a short laugh. "No."

"Hm. Sounds rather boring then. Mundanes aren't nearly as entertaining as I'd always thought." Jace said, going back to his food, though he snuck a quick glance at her from the corner of his eye, a small grin fighting its way onto his face. Clary just smacked his arm. His smile widened.

He sighed after a few seconds though, lapsing back into a rare moment of complete seriousness. "This isn't over. You know that right?"

Clary sighed herself and nodded reluctantly. "I know."

"Asmodeus isn't going to back down so easily. In fact, he isn't going to back down at all. Greater demons never do, never mind a prince of Hell."

Clary stared down at her food, no longer hungry. Jace was right; she knew he was. She'd been running the same thoughts through her mind earlier, but she didn't want to believe it. She was so done with fighting, and wars, and loss. She felt like that was all she'd seen for the last year. And now they were potentially facing more of it.

She had long since discovered that the life of a Shadowhunter was a hard one. And she knew, unfortunately, that that wasn't changing any time soon. She glanced back up to find Jace looking at her, his eyes mirroring her own thoughts. He placed his hand over hers. "I know," he said quietly.

When it came to things like this, Jace was honest, brutally at times. He never made false promises or sugarcoated things. He didn't paint a rough situation in the best light. He, more than anyone, knew just how bad a situation could be, and he didn't lie to make his loved ones feel better. And Clary loved him for that.

They would just have to get through this like they'd gotten through everything else. She couldn't help but hope.

She scooted closer to him and leaned into his side, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. "I don't want to worry about it right now," she told him, "Just kiss me."

Jace was happy to oblige.

* * *

**IDEAS! Guys, I need them! If you have anything you want to happen, let me know. And, specifically, anything that could happen with the whole Asmodeus thing, I'd love to hear them! **

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!  
**

**See you next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi guys! Here's the next chapter. I'm trying for about weekly for updates now that the story is in full swing. I'm not sure how long I will make it. it just depends on how it goes.**

**This _probably_ would have been up earlier, but I got stuck reading this awful book for school and couldn't write. I just finished this now for you. :) Hope you like it!**

* * *

"Alright, ready-_Block_!" Jace said, lunging with lightning quick precision at Simon, with a blade in hand. Simon held one too, dulled intentionally for safety. He had barely enough time to parry the other Shadowhunter's blade out of the way or face being decapitated. Because Jace's sword, as opposed to his, was definitely _not _dulled, the training room lights glinting off its sharpened edges, and it could easily have killed him. Maybe Simon should have been more scared of that possibility than he was, and he definitely would have been, if it had been anyone other than Jace Herondale standing in front of him, flinging blades at his face. As quick and agile as Jace was, he could just as easily _not _kill him as he could kill him. And if he couldn't, well, more incentive for the new Shadowhunter to block appropriately. Simon though, for his own peace of mind, was choosing to trust him.

It was his first day of training as an official Shadowhunter, two days since his Ascension, and though it was hard, Simon was enjoying it. They'd been at it for about an hour now, he and Jace, working with swords and knives, Simon learning the essentials. Right now, they were doing blocking drills, while Clary and Isabelle were immersed in a sparring match on the other side of the room, paying them little attention.

Normally, a newly Ascended Shadowhunter would have been further along in his training then Simon currently was, but the circumstances had made him a sort of special case, having had to Ascend as quickly as possible or risk being found out by a prince of Hell before he was Nephilim, which was definitely a worse option. So, they were treating him as they had Clary, after she'd found out she was a Shadowhunter. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best option, and personally, Simon was happy with having not delayed.

Jace came at him again, using a different technique, and Simon danced out of the way, putting all his focus into the task at hand. He narrowly blocked it, the powerful assault sending a painful vibration up his arm. Jace took a step back then and began circling the new Shadowhunter, quite obviously examining his form. Back in front of him again, he kicked out with almost blurring speed, and swept Simon's front leg right out from under him. The latter crashed roughly to the floor. "Keep most of your weight on your back foot," Jace instructed, watching with not-very-well-concealed amusement, as Simon picked himself up, trying not to wince. It seemed everything would hurt by the end of today. "Your balance and speed is altered otherwise."

Once again upright, Simon let out a quick breath. "Alright," he said.

"Again?" Jace asked, grinning, though he wasn't actually giving him a choice. Simon nodded and took up his sword, shifting his weight into the proper stance, and braced himself to block another onslaught of Jace's strikes.

* * *

Clary traced her _stele_ across Simon's collarbone; next to the large gash the sword had cut in it. He winced slightly as she did so, clearly unused to its burn on his skin. "Sorry," she murmured.

Clary had watched the incident happen. She and Isabelle had stood off to the side of the room, taking a break from their own training and watching Simon with his. He and Jace were working on basic back-and-forth with blades; a simple exercise: two steps forward in offense, two back in defense, and repeat. Clary remembered learning it herself many months earlier. It was the prequel to actual sword fighting.

It looked to be going smoothly. Simon had gotten the hang of the basic concept and he and Jace exchanged moves back and forth at a pretty quick rate now; Simon, with a look of deep concentration, and Jace, well, Jace wasn't really trying at all, but he seemed satisfied with Simon's progress.

The girls stood there for a minute, watching, and were about to get back to work on their own education, when Simon, in an attempt to block another of Jace's advances, almost missed, just narrowly catching his opponent's blade with the very edge of his own. The force of Jace's blade and Simon's lack of a decent block resulted in Simon's blade bouncing back… right at him. "Whoa!" Jace barked, well aware of what would happen and knocked Simon's blade aside in time to prevent the new Shadowhunter from hitting himself in the face with it. Unfortunately, he could only get it as far aside as the blade hitting him in the shoulder instead, eliciting a painful sound from Simon, before clattering to the floor. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

"Simon!" Isabelle cried and shot forward with Clary on her heals.

The good news: Simon's blade was intentionally dulled for safety, so it didn't half-sever his arm from his body like a sharpened one would have. The bad news: it was still sharp enough to do some damage.

Blood poured from the wound in his shoulder, soaking his gear jacket rather quickly, but Clary was already there, _stele _at the ready, while Jace cut away the moist fabric with his knife to permit her access to her best friend's bare skin.

The whole thing was over pretty quickly, and Simon stood where he had only moments earlier when the accident had first happened, with the three other Shadowhunters standing around him, examining the lines of the _iratze_ by his collarbone and the jagged red line beside it, which was all that was left of the gaping wound that had been there only seconds earlier.

"Is this going to scar?" he asked, sounding wary, "Because it might be a bit early still for me to be coming home with scars. My mom will freak."

It was Jace who answered with a dismissive wave of his hand, "From _that?_ No. It was minor. And Clary drew the _iratze._ You'll be lucky if that mark lasts half an hour."

Simon nodded; looking relieved, and glanced at Jace. "Thanks," he said, "For-not letting me hit myself in the face with a sword."

Jace, grinning, slung an arm around Clary, who had stepped back after finishing the healing rune, "What would you do without me?" he asked, as cocky as ever.

* * *

Simon breathed steadily as he drew his _stele_ slowly across his left forearm, his eyes shifting between it and the open Gray Book in front of him, trying to trace, as exactly as possible, the rune for sore muscles. Clary had mentioned it to him before his Ascension, and he was giving it a try. Because, God, did he need it. Everything hurt. He had thought the worst was over as far as the soreness went, but today had been a whole new level entirely of hard work. His newfound strength and balance had allowed him to perform better than he'd ever been able to before, but it had also given Jace a reason to push him even harder.

After the near miss earlier in the day, the training had continued, after Simon had swapped his cut open, blood-soaked gear for new ones, though it had been unanimously decided that they'd done enough sword work for one day. They'd moved on to some other methods of fighting: hand-to-hand combat, fighting with blunt objects, archery-which was the only thing Simon had ever particularly excelled at prior to joining the ranks of the Nephilim. A lot of ground had been covered in one day, all of which had left Simon feeling both exhilarated and exhausted. And _very_ sore.

He had been slowly learning and memorizing runes as part of his daily lessons, but the Angel's Marks were powerful things, and he knew that too much in one day was dangerous. He had never looked one up on his own before, but if he was expected to be able to move tomorrow, learning this one was necessary.

Footsteps on the library floor alerted him to someone else's presence, but he didn't look away from his work, determined to finish the complicated Mark. A moment later, Isabelle stood before him, watching. Simon glanced up at her for a second before glancing back down again. "Do you want some help?" she asked after another second. Simon looked at her again, but she didn't wait for his answer, plucking the _stele _from his hand and finishing off the rune herself from memory. He could feel it working immediately. The throbbing in his arms, legs, and torso faded considerably.

"Thanks," Simon told her, sitting back on the couch as Isabelle came to sit beside him. He wrapped his arm around her and she hesitantly leaned against him.

"This doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked.

He smirked. "Not anymore," and she made herself more comfortable against him.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked.

"It's totally fine, not even a mark to prove it was ever hurt to begin with."

She smiled, looking up at him, though she seemed distracted. This was the first real time they'd had together in a while, since before all the craziness with the Ascension had started, to be truly alone, and he hadn't had a chance to really talk to her in a long time. "Welcome to the world of _iratzes._ Great, aren't they?"

"Yeah," he said and then, after a pause, asked, "You okay?"

She nodded against him and was quiet for a few seconds before speaking, looking down at their hands, which sat on both their laps, entwined together. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. I'm not used to this, to you being here, like this, to actually being _allowed _to be with you, here, like this. But in a good way. I like it." She looked up to meet his eyes and he saw the small smile she wore on her face, and he knew she meant it. He could see she was truly happy, happier than she'd been in a long time. He met her smile with one of his own. "Plus," she added as a side note, "My dad is apparently visiting here next week, and I plan on giving him hell for how awful he was to you back in Alicante during the war."

"Izzy, that was, like, eight months ago."

"It doesn't matter. He still had no right to treat you like that. At any rate, he treated us all like crap at one point or another." Her words were bitter, but they still carried the loving undertone she used only with him.

"So I'm guessing 'forgive and forget' is out of the question?" he asked, a smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not the forgiving type," she said simply in reply.

"Good to know," Simon said and brought his lips to hers, interrupting whatever she had planned to say next.

"What was that for?" she asked a minute later, slightly breathless, after they both pulled apart.

"Because I love you," he answered easily, "And since, like you said, we're allowed to be together now, I see no point in withholding that bit of information anymore. In any way."

Izzy smiled and glanced down quickly before looking back at him again. "I love you too," she replied. It wasn't the first time she'd said it since everything had happened, but neither of them proclaimed it very often yet, and hearing her say it still made his heart skip a beat.

That had been the worst part about being a vampire, the whole undead thing. It had always put an insurmountable barrier between the two of them that they could never get around. Being in love was so much better when his heart actually beat. And he really didn't want to live forever anyway.

Now, he could experience every aspect of a mortal life, and then some, now that he was a Shadowhunter too.

He didn't know what the future held. He didn't know what would happen with Asmodeus, and he didn't want to worry about it. For now at least, he was content to simply hold his girlfriend in his arms, to kiss her breathless, and to enjoy the time he had with her right now before he had to go home to have dinner with his mom, who had accepted him for who he was and seemed, for the most part, okay with it. And the rest would come in time. For right now, he was taking things one day at a time. Right now, he was happy.

And that was all that mattered.

* * *

**Okay, so sorry about the ending. Its super cheesy, I know, but I couldn't think of another way to resolve the scene, and I wanted to get this up for you. Hopefully it wasn't too bad...?  
**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it otherwise! And please, if you can help at all, I need ideas! For anything at all. Robert Lightwood is coming, so anything I can have happen then would be great, as well as more ideas for the Asmodeus thing. Anything at all. I would love to hear your ideas! And thanks to those who already gave me some. Guys, keep them coming! The more ideas I have, the faster the updates will be! Thanks a bunch!**

**Thanks again for reading, leave a review, let me know your thoughts. I'd really appreciate it! Bye!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I had to take a bit of a break with all the craziness of the holidays. That said, I hope you all had a great Christmas!**

**So this chapter is long - you're welcome. And I gave you a lot of Jace POV since there hasn't been much of that in this story so far. Hope you like it!**

**Also, thank you to the Guest who gave me the idea for this chapter, as well as upcoming ones! Keep the ideas coming, folks! They help a lot!**

* * *

The Shadowhunters of the New York Institute, minus Simon, stood just inside the Institute's walls, having just returned from a morning of hunting a trio of Elapid demons that had been terrorizing the streets of New York. The nave was bright, as it always was, with light from the candelabras and the late morning sunlight shone through the stained glass windows as Jace cleaned the demon blood from his blade, examining the damage done to it by the acidic ichor. After deeming it beyond hope of ever working properly again, he tossed it aside in disgust, sending it skittering under one of the benches, and glanced down at his gear, which had fared surprisingly well, considering the amount of Elapid venom that had soaked him, having shot up at him from the inside of the demon he had skewered. If not for the _iratze_ Alec had drawn on him, his skin still would have been burned red and raw from it.

Isabelle, who had followed directly behind Jace in walking inside, continued past him now, throwing herself down on the end of the closest pew and wrapping her whip expertly around her wrist, cleaning it as she went. "I hope you're planning on picking that up, Jace," she said, her eyes not leaving her task, "You know how mom hates it when you leave your things laying around."

Rolling his eyes, Jace said, "Thank you, Isabelle. I didn't know you were working as her personal spokesperson now. The task suits you." Even as he said it though, he crossed the room, skirting a row of pews, to retrieve his discarded weapon. Isabelle, looking at him for the first time, simply stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

She, of course, was completely clean, not a speck of dirt on her, not a hair out of place, though she had been fighting just as long and hard as the rest of them-a fact Jace wouldn't have believed, looking at her, had he not seen it himself. The rest of them, though, desperately needed hot showers.

Clary walked past them then, heading in the direction of the elevator. She wore, as they all did, black gear, dusty, after a hit she'd taken from one of the demons, which had sent her tumbling into a dirty alleyway in one of the sketchier parts of town, nearly giving Jace a heart attack in the process. Before meeting her, he had never worried even remotely close to as much as he did now. If he didn't love her so much, it would have been really inconvenient too. He was learning, though, that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Her red hair hung, messy and tangled, half-out of its ponytail, which she took out the rest of the way as she walked, shaking it out the best she could in its current state. There was a smudge of grime on her left cheek as well, though she didn't seem to be aware of it. Or she was and didn't care. Either way, Jace thought she looked great.

"Well," she said as she went, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. And filthy. So if you two are done, I'd like to get out of these clothes now." Alec immediately moved to follow, overtaking her quickly with his long frame, and proceeded to lift the elevator gate for her.

"Were you asking for help with that task?" Jace asked, coming up beside her and slinging an arm around her as they followed Alec inside the lift, Isabelle bringing up the rear.

"TMI," Izzy announced, feigning disgust, as she closed the door and the ancient elevator began creaking its way up. Alec looked to be hiding a smirk. Clary, realizing her mistake, turned and smacked Jace hard in the arm. He only grinned at her in response, amused.

Simon was waiting for them in the corridor when the elevator stopped, leaning against the faded wallpaper that lined the Institute's hallways with his arms crossed. He watched them emerge with an expression that was clearly trying for unconcerned and casual, though he obviously was more inclined to sulking at the moment. Belatedly, Jace wondered what time Simon had gotten there. He had left with Alec and Isabelle pretty early, and had gotten word to Clary to meet them on the way. That had been before eight that morning. It was probably close to eleven now.

"Have fun?" Simon asked, still leaning against the wall, straightening only after Izzy drew near and moved to intertwine her fingers with his.

Clary must have been wondering the same thing Jace was, because she asked, "How long have you been here?"

"I got here at about nine-thirty, only to find the place empty, except for Maryse, who said you were out, valiantly fighting the evils of this world," Simon explained blandly, "So I've been here since then, looking for ways to pass the time, since I didn't know when you guys would be back, reading encyclopedias and such for fun. I've since become an expert in anatomy, in case you care. There's also coffee in the kitchen, if anyone's interested."

"That," Alec said, "Sounds fantastic. Thanks, man." Sidestepping around Jace, he proceeded down the hallway, toward the kitchen, clearly hoping to avoid the awkward confrontation. Jace couldn't blame his _parabatai _either. He himself couldn't help feeling slightly bad for Simon. The poor guy wanted to be in on the demon fighting action so badly. He just wasn't ready yet. It wasn't his fault the situation hadn't allowed for a normal Ascension, on a normal timetable.

Beside Jace, Clary sighed, "Sorry, Simon. I meant to call you…" In her defense, that morning had been slightly chaotic.

"It's fine." He waved a hand, the one not in Isabelle's grasp, dismissively. "It's whatever." It obviously wasn't 'whatever,' but no one seemed interested in pressing the issue. He didn't seem quite as bitter now though. Clary had that effect on him. He couldn't be mad at her.

Clary continued to stare at her friend for another few seconds, before she let go of Jace's hand, which she had been holding, glanced back at him, and then at Simon. "Just, give me five minutes to change and shower. Then we'll do something. I promise."

"Its fine, Clary," Simon said tiredly, like he was done with the conversation, but she had already started walking toward her room, which she rarely actually stayed in nowadays, and if she heard him, she didn't acknowledge so.

* * *

Jace walked out of his bedroom, pulling a gray T-shirt over his head as he did so, his hair still damp from the shower of his own he had taken to rid the dirt and leftover ichor from his skin and hair. He made his way toward the kitchen, in search of the coffee Simon had mentioned, hoping he had been serious when he said it was in there.

To Jace's immense delight, he had. A pot sat, two-thirds full, brewed and hot on the countertop, still steaming, filling the kitchen with the heavenly aroma. In all the disarray of that morning, coffee, sadly, had not been a priority. Alec sat at the table, still wearing gear, engrossed in the cell phone in his hand. He looked up as Jace came in and nodded in greeting, before going back to what he was doing-probably texting Magnus. Simon and Isabelle were nowhere to be seen.

Jace poured some coffee for himself and sat down, for the first time that morning, across from Alec, sipping from the hot mug in his hands, grateful for the caffeine, even with the summer heat outside. Clary appeared a few minutes later, in denim shorts and a purple tank top, her own damp hair tied back in a loose knot. She grabbed a granola bar from one of the cabinets, rationed some coffee for herself (it was kind of a hot commodity), and took her place in the chair beside him. Alec ignored them both.

"How are your burns?" she asked.

Jace held up his bare arm, which, aside from the faded lines left from the many years of rune applications, was completely unscathed. "Haven't you learned of the miraculous healing power of _iratzes _yet, Clary?" he asked with mock seriousness.

She only smiled, shrugged, and took another bite of her brunch.

The three stayed there for another few minutes. The kitchen was quiet. Alec was still engrossed in the technology before him. Clary had taken up sketching on the pad of paper Maryse always left sitting on the table, and Jace sat, one hand resting casually on her leg, watching-mostly. He alternated between observing, in fascination, the scene from that morning, of Isabelle and Alec facing a very realistic interpretation of an Elapid demon, come to life at Clary's hand, and looking at her; her face, her hands, the rest of her, and wondering, for the millionth time, how on earth he'd ever been lucky enough to love her, and more importantly, for her to love him back.

He'd finally come to terms with his past, embraced it, and made peace with the many demons he'd carried with him for so long because of it. He had learned, and was still learning, how to feel, and how to love, mostly thanks to Clary. He had learned how to appreciate the greatest things in life, and it blew his mind, really, whenever he thought about it. For so long, he'd been such a despicable person, mostly because it was the only way he'd known how to be, and still, he had been loved by the Lightwoods, and eventually by Clary. And he could never thank them enough for their kindness, for opening his eyes to what a family really was.

Clary finished her drawing and tore the top page off the notepad, set it aside, and began a new one, this time of a person, whom Jace could soon make out as himself. And he had to smile. She had often complained of the difficulties she faced with drawing him, for whatever reason, and it amused him to no end, how she perpetually continued trying anyway. She had a rough outline down before the quiet was interrupted.

"There you guys are." It was Isabelle, in the doorway, with Simon behind her. Jace and Clary turned to look at them. Alec looked up for a two count, and looked down again. Isabelle looked around, shaking her head in disapproval. "Look at you guys. So boring. Don't you ever, I don't know, _talk _to each other or something?"

"Don't you ever, I don't know, _stop _talking or something?" Jace replied back, mirroring her tone. Behind him, Alec snorted. Isabelle just stared at her blonde-haired brother dully.

Simon made his way around Izzy and into the kitchen, where he leaned against the counter. She followed a second later and hoisted herself gracefully up onto the countertop, next to where he stood, leaning.

Changing the subject, Isabelle asked, "Have you guys eaten anything yet? If you want I could make some-"

"_NO!"_ The answer was instantaneous from Jace, Clary and Alec, who was paying close attention now.

Isabelle blinked. "Oh, come on! I-"

"NO." Jace and Alec repeated, completely synchronized.

"I'd rather not die today, if it's alright with you," said Jace.

Izzy sighed. "Fine. I'll order pizza."

Alec perked up then. "Get-"

"I know," his sister spoke quickly, "Pepperoni for you and Jace, veggie for Clary-" she looked at the red-head as she said this, who smirked and nodded assent, and then at Simon, "And you too, right?" she asked.

Simon shrugged. "That's fine. I'm easy."

"Yeah, you're easy" Clary said with a teasing smile, "As long as it's kosher."

Simon shrugged. "Well, yeah."

Jace turned to look at him, "Isn't the whole kosher thing kind of out the window for you anyway? I mean, you've consumed human blood. I'm _fairly_ sure that breaks the rules."

"I'm counting that as a necessary exception," Simon answered, crossing his arms, "Because it's not like I had another choice."

Jace just looked at him with an eyebrow raised, and then snorted, "Whatever floats your boat."

"Okay, well, if you two are done bickering," Isabelle put in, "I'm gonna call. What do you think, 3 large pies? One pepperoni, one veggie, one-"

She broke off and stared as a sixth person entered the kitchen. It was Magnus, but he looked… not good; haggard, and pale, and sweaty. Also seriously lacking in sparkles and hair gel-very unlike Magnus.

Jace did a double-take upon seeing him. Simon and Clary just stared. Alec bolted upright, wide-eyed, and rushed over to him, demanding, in a shocked voice, what Jace was sure they were all wondering, "Oh my God, Magnus, are you okay?!"

Magnus, taking a deep breath and leaning weakly in the doorframe, nodded in a painful-looking way, like it took up all his remaining energy to do so. Alec draped one of Magnus' arms over his shoulders and half-carried his boyfriend toward the closest chair-Jace's, and Jace, in his extreme curiosity and shock, gave it up to him without a second thought and stood behind Clary's chair, watching, as they all were, the clearly ailing warlock.

"It's-" Magnus began, moistening his lips, which were clearly dry. His words were slurred. "It's my father. He's attacking my power, sapping my strength. Its taking everything I have to ward him off. It's tiring after a while." He met Alec's eyes and a silent exchange seemed to pass between them. Alec offered his hand and Magnus took it. Both closed their eyes for a second and then it was over. Both opened their eyes again, Alec blinking slowly, like he'd just woken up. Magnus seemed slightly better though, able to keep himself upright on his own power at least. Jace knew Alec must have given him some of his strength.

"Why is your father doing this? Attacking you?" Clary asked, looking concerned. Jace couldn't blame her.

Magnus shook his head. His words were slightly clearer now. "I told you all before. The incident with Simon's mother was just the beginning. My father isn't finished yet. That was only the first jab. He's going to keep attacking us, all of us, sapping our strength little by little, weakening our resolve. I wouldn't be surprised if he sent a horde of demons to battle it out in the end, with himself in the lead. Actually, I'd be surprised if he _didn't._ He'll be seeking vengeance, and he won't stop until he gets it, or is defeated." He took a deep breath. "And it won't be pretty."

There was silence as the Shadowhunters let that information settle in. It was Simon who spoke first. "Great."

"What are we gonna do?" Clary asked.

"We'll fight," Jace answered, and looked around at all of them, "We'll have to."

"He's right," Magnus said, "And if this assault keeps up, I'm not sure how much help I will be able to offer you."

Alec leaned back against the wall, staring into space, and said, "This isn't good."

"What are we looking at here?" Jace asked Magnus.

"One thing you do have going for you is that my father's realm is sucked completely dry, and the demons that are there, under his command, are starving and weak. If and when they get here, it's very possible they will be so frenzied from hunger that they will be sloppy and hard to control, which will be good for you. The problem, of course, is the very fact that we don't know that that's exactly what will happen, or what else my father has up his sleeve. At this point, there are a lot of unknowns in the equation."

Isabelle sighed, shaking her head. "We'll… figure something out," she said, "We have time, right?"

"Some time," Magnus agreed, "But likely not a ton."

"Great. Another waiting game," Clary said unhappily. Jace reached forward and placed a hand gently on her shoulder in what was hopefully a comforting gesture.

"Unfortunately, that's all we have right now," Alec agreed."

* * *

The walk home late that afternoon was a quiet one. Clary and Simon walked the mostly empty sidewalks leading from the Institute to the subway, side by side, the summer sun still bright in the sky, bearing down on them. Neither one said much. Clary, at least, could find nothing worth saying.

She couldn't believe they were facing yet another battle. More attacks. More fighting. And this time, they were up against an enemy that couldn't actually be killed, not really. She wondered about their chances. They had fought greater demons only a couple of times before, and each time had been an insanely close call. She wondered how many times they could get lucky before their luck ran out.

She shook her head. No more thinking. Not right now. She turned to look up at Simon who walked beside her, hands at his sides, staring down at the sidewalk in front of them. "I'm sorry about this morning," she said, speaking for, really, the first time since they'd left the Institute, "I should have called you, told you not to head over until we were back."

He looked at her and shrugged. "It's alright. I was just jealous. I want to be out there with you guys, part of the action, not stuck inside until I can learn more. It was stupid." He paused and then sighed before speaking again, "Besides, we have bigger things to worry about."

"Yeah," Clary sighed in response, "I know."

Suddenly, Simon stopped walking and let out his breath in an agitated huff, looking to the building at his right, shaking his head. "God, this is all my fault," he said, and slowly brought his eyes back to meet hers.

"Simon, no it's not. Don't say that."

"It is. This is all happening because of me. If I hadn't Ascended, if I'd just stayed human and ignorant, none of this would have ever happened. You, and Izzy, and all of you would be safe, and you wouldn't be facing _another _war. This is all on me, Clary, don't tell me it isn't."

Clary stood and looked at him long and hard for a few seconds before speaking again. "Alright, fine," she said, "It is because of you. But that doesn't make it your fault."

"Yes, it-"

"No, it doesn't. Asmodeus is mad because we played him. We found a way to get you back and for everyone to be happy despite his trick. It's _because _of you. You didn't cause it. There's a difference. And you're not the only one who was affected by what we did. Me, Izzy, we both wanted you back. Everyone did. Even Jace, though he'd never admit it. So it's not your fault, it's all of our faults. Together. We did this together and we'll get through it together because we have no other choice. We're gonna fight. We're Shadowhunters. It's what we do. So stop being stupid, because blaming yourself isn't going to change anything anyway."

Simon stared at her for a solid ten seconds and then said quietly, "You're right."

"I know," she replied, voice quiet, and then stepped forward and took his hand in hers. "It _will _be okay, somehow. You have to believe that." Simon only nodded, still looking slightly unconvinced. "Besides," she added, "We have you now too."

"You had me before."

"Yeah, but you're one of us now, so it's better."

Seemingly despite himself, Simon smiled. "'_One of us._' Listen to you. It sounds like a gang."

Clary smiled too. "Well we do wear black and carry weapons. So I suppose that's really not very different."

This time, Simon's laugh was stronger and more natural. And a just a little hopeful too.

* * *

**And the plot thickens, dun dun dunnnnn!**

**So, I don't completely know where I'm going with this whole thing yet, so if you have any ideas, again, feel free to share them. The more ideas, the faster the updates. Just saying. **

**Also, before you go, I am working on a TMI one-shot. I wanted to have it up before Christmas, but that obviously didn't happen, so hopefully I will be able to post it soon. So be on the look out for that!**

**Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. As always, I will see you nest time! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Midterms are this coming week, so between getting ready for them and Writer's Block, I had some trouble getting this update together. But it's here now, so hope you enjoy!**

**Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! You guys are awesome!**

* * *

It was so easy for Clary to lose herself in Jace- in his eyes; when he smiled at her; when she watched him moving with the grace and finesse only he could, muscles contracting as he did; when he kissed her-_especially _when he kissed her, which was what he was doing now.

They were in one of the Institute's many hallways, in the residential wing, the majority of which was perpetually uninhabited. They were probably the first Shadowhunters to walk this particular corridor in quite a while. Which was probably exactly why Jace had led her there.

His body was against hers, close enough that she could feel every contour of him against her. Her hands were hopelessly tangled in his hair-which needed cutting again, and she stood as high as her tiptoes would allow to reach him, though Jace was supporting the majority of her weight. He'd pressed her up against the ancient wallpaper from the start, and seemed inclined to be as close to her as he possibly could, giving their current _clothed_ state and the fact that they were in a random hallway and, though incredibly unlikely, could be walked in on at any time. Still, neither of them had let that fact stop them much.

After a while of intensely making out-there was no denying that was what they were doing, Clary broke away slightly to catch her breath, or risk passing out from oxygen deprivation. Jace simply switched to kissing hungrily along her jaw and down her neck, unabated. "We're supposed to be training, you know," she pointed out weakly.

Jace, after trailing a line of kisses back up to her mouth, pressed his lips to hers once more before replying. "And?" His voice was soft and husky, full of longing. He kissed her again, and then began exploring the rest of her exposed skin with his lips as well, very clearly uninterested in stopping. And understandably so. It was taking all of Clary's willpower not to crumble right there and give in completely to his obvious wishes.

"And someone is bound to come searching for us soon," she countered, untangling her fingers from his golden locks and clasping them behind his neck instead, wrapping her legs behind his thighs, which probably wasn't really helping her case, allowing him and the wall to support her weight completely. She stared at him, content to simply watch as he dotted her collarbone with kisses. After another few seconds, he conceded slightly, bringing his forehead to rest against hers, staring into her eyes, his own still darker than usual with desire.

"Let them," was his whispered response. He kissed her again, gentler this time. He pulled away then and set to looking at her again as what was left of his ever-present mask fell away, allowing her to see the side of him that he reserved for her and only her; the side of him Clary loved most.

He was stressed and worried, as they all were, about the events that had surrounded them the past few days. But no one else on the planet would he ever allow to see that, and she took from that what little comfort she could.

It had been almost a week since Magnus had become _ill_, for lack of a better term, and things had not improved much since then, for anyone. Per Alec's demand, and because Magnus was too weak to do anything else anyway, the warlock had taken up temporary residence in one of the Institute's many spare rooms, having refused, as vehemently as he could manage, the infirmary at all costs. Not exactly Nephilim protocol, but no one was stupid enough to bring that up to Alec right now. There hadn't been much change in Magnus one way or the other, though Alec was not handling it all that well. At all. He didn't eat unless Jace threatened to force food down his throat, he didn't sleep. He just sat by Magnus' bedside day and night, though the warlock slept most of the time.

They had informed the Clave of what was going on after Magnus had showed up that morning, and since, it had been a mess of meetings and votes. No decision had been made about whether the New York Institute would be offered much help with this. Maryse was in Idris for the day, for the sole purpose of trying to find out what to do about Asmodeus and how to do it.

And Magnus, unfortunately, had not been the end of their recent troubles either. Aside from the warlock's state and the affect it was having on Alec, the rest of the gang had had their hands pretty full with other matters. Demon activity was, by far, at the highest Clary had seen it. They had been out hunting almost every day that week, and not because they'd had to go looking for them. Sent from Asmodeus himself, no doubt. The bunch of them weren't sleeping much either. The Nephilim protection spells prevented demons from influencing their dreams, but that didn't mean the greater demon wasn't trying his hardest to anyway. The result was sleep that was fitful at best, and was interrupted violently every half hour, like clockwork. Clary would jolt awake suddenly with no memory of what had happened to wake her, but with a feeling of lingering fear in the back of her mind. She'd found herself thinking, on more than one occasion, that it was like her mind knew what was happening and would force her awake before any damage could be done. Not a particularly happy thought.

All of this had resulted in a pretty stressed out group of Shadowhunters the last few days. Sneaking off with Jace had been the first spontaneous, fun thing Clary had done since, and even it had a sort of heaviness to it, like the two of them needed each other so overwhelmingly for the sake of their sanity, it was more a necessity than anything else.

Jace, having ignored her latest statement, had gone back to kissing her lips, though not as greedily this time. His actions had grown sweeter and gentler, less desperate than they had been only moments before, and Clary responded to the change in demeanor, glad that she could distract him from the pressure of the situation, even if only temporarily.

After another minute, Jace pulled away, though they remained close enough together for their foreheads to touch. His eyes were closed and his breathing still slightly uneven when he spoke, bringing his hands up from where they had been on her torso, to cup her face. "I love you," he said softly, affectionately, "God, Clary, I love you so much."

"I know," she answered, smiling, "I love you too."

"I don't tell you enough," he persisted, opening his golden eyes to meet her green ones, "I don't know where I'd be without you."

"Dead, for one," she responded jokingly, but even as she said it, her heart felt weighted down for just a second. Jace dying just wasn't an option, even if it had actually happened. She couldn't imagine a world without Jace Herondale in it. She didn't want to live there.

"Exactly," Jace replied, voice still tender. He let her go then, stepping back and taking only her hand in his. His tone was once again sarcastic when he said, "I suppose we _should _go though. As completely comfortable as I am with our relationship and the things it entails, it could potentially be scarring to whoever had the misfortune of finding us going at it like that. I'd hate to see Simon's poor, innocent mind corrupted." He paused a second as they walked. "No, actually I wouldn't, he corrected."

"Doesn't matter either way. Simon's mind is definitely _not _innocent."

"Well then I see no reason for us having had to stop, because I know for a _fact _that Izzy's and Alec's aren't either."

* * *

Simon and Isabelle sat on the training room floor, their backs against the wall, a window above their head, facing the door, across the room. They had been there together for a while, after Jace and Clary had snuck of to do God knows what. They had tried training for all of five minutes before they'd both decided that it wasn't going to happen. They'd been sitting there together since, her head on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined on his knee while he rubbed soothing circles into the side of her hand with his thumb ; the both of them quiet for the most part. That was one of the things Izzy liked best about Simon. He knew when words were needed and he knew when they weren't. This was one of those latter times.

The stress everyone clearly felt was practically tangible. It had lingered over all of them like a cloud the past few days and between it and the lack of sleep, everyone's patience had grown pretty frayed.

Izzy still couldn't believe it. She didn't want to. She had been so happy for those two or so weeks after Simon had Ascended. Everything seemed to have fallen into place for them, finally. It was as close to perfect as she could ever have expected.

And now, here they were, facing yet _another_ war, with _another _set of horrible odds. After two consecutive ones in the past year alone, they were at it again. More fighting, more pain… More loss. After all she had lost already, Isabelle wasn't sure she could handle any more. She still missed Max every day; little Max, young, innocent, too young to die. And yet he had. He had died and it still haunted her. She couldn't lose another brother. Or another friend. She couldn't lose _anyone_ else. And the fear that she would paralyzed her.

She didn't know how much of this Simon knew, how much he had guessed from what she'd told him, how much he'd figured out on his own, but she was grateful for the silent comfort he offered her, the softly whispered _I love you_'s in her ear.

She had never been in love before. Not like this. Not anywhere close. And she'd never imagined she'd fall in love with someone like Simon, someone who, at the time at least, wasn't even a Shadowhunter; who, even worse, was a _Downworlder._ And yet, she had, and she loved him more now, after everything, than she had even fathomed then. She was only faring as well as she was right now because of Simon, and even though she knew he wasn't doing great either, she was immensely grateful for him.

After a while, Izzy wasn't sure how long exactly, Jace and Clary wandered in, hands locked together. Neither she, nor Simon, made any effort to move at their presence, simply watching them from their place on the floor.

"Come on," Jace called over to them, having stopped with Clary in the doorway.

Simon hesitated for a second, obviously confused, "Where are we going?" he asked.

Jace shrugged. "Taki's. Central Park. The moon. I don't know, _somewhere_. I see no point in us moping around here, waiting for bad stuff to happen. The two of you are a pitiful sight. You should see yourselves. We're all in need of a distraction-and maybe a stiff drink or two. So come on."

Izzy had lifted her head from Simon's shoulder while Jace was talking. Beside her, Simon raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Jace Herondale, _against_ moping? I never thought I'd live to see the day." Despite herself, Isabelle couldn't help allowing a small smile to grace her features. He made a valid point.

Jace was unimpressed, staring blandly at Simon. "Frankly," he said dully, "I'm surprised you did," and then, with Clary's hand still in his, began leading her back into the hallway, calling over his shoulder, "If you'd rather sit and sulk together, by all means, feel free. Otherwise, we're leaving." They disappeared from sight.

Simon and Isabelle looked at each other for a second, before shrugging and resignedly getting to their feet. Jace was right. There was no point in sitting around, waiting on something they had no control over. Izzy had no idea what he had in mind, but she didn't want to hang around like this anymore either. "Why not?" she allowed, shrugging. Simon gave a small smile in response and proceeded to help her to her feet, like the gentleman he was only about half the time, though Isabelle didn't mind.

Clary and Jace were waiting for them in the nave; the latter sprawled out lazily in one of the pews, smiling cockily, like he knew that Simon and Izzy would have followed. Isabelle was almost disappointed to have proven him right.

"What about Alec?" Simon asked as he and Isabelle approached Jace and Clary, "I'm guessing he's not coming…?"

"Believe it or not, I actually did ask," Jace answered, standing up, "Nearly bit my head off when I suggested he come too. He's slightly volatile at the moment, fair warning. I'd suggest only talking to him if you intend to die in some painful way at his skilled hand. However, no, he is not coming. And he very well may end up with a coronary by the end of this if he's not careful." Isabelle had known Alec was like that already, which was why she hadn't bothered asking. She knew her brother would never willingly leave Magnus' side when the warlock was like this. She also could see the effect Alec's state was inadvertently having on Jace, his _parabatai._ At this point, she was praying for a miracle, for Magnus' sake, as well as her brothers'. "Anyway," Jace said, offering his hand to Clary, "Shall we?" The redhead gave a smile, took his hand in hers, and the four of them made their way out of the Institute.

* * *

That night, Clary walked beside Simon on the sidewalk on their way home, as per usual. The Shadowhunters had spent the better part of the afternoon at Taki's, talking and eating, and then, had stopped by Pandemonium for a couple of hours, after they'd mutually decided they all needed a little fun. Clary had been particularly happy about the latter part, as she hadn't been to Pandemonium since that fateful night, what seemed so long ago now, when she'd first encountered Jace, Izzy, and Alec, and her life had changed forever. It had been fun to be there with them and Simon. Not to mention, their dark clothes and tattoos made them look a lot cooler in that club. It had been the distraction they had all needed, and for the moment anyway, Clary was pretty happy.

"Rebecca's coming home tomorrow," Simon was saying, "Spending a little time with us before school starts again. I was thinking of taking a day or two off training to see her before she has to leave."

Clary shrugged, "Go for it. Honestly, I'm not sure how much training is actually going to get done while this whole Prince of Hell situation is going on anyway. It'd probably be smart to do that sooner than later though."

Simon shrugged tiredly, "Yeah. Hopefully it blows over soon, and with Becca and my mom safely out of harm's way. I don't know how much more any of us can take."

Clary nodded understandingly and then changed the subject, not wanting to ruin her good mood yet. "So what does Rebecca think of the whole Shadowhunter thing?" Simon had told her about how his sister had found out about the Ascension and everything that had led up to it back when he'd first told her, but the subject hadn't been touched since.

Simon smiled weakly. "She thinks it's pretty cool. She'd never admit it, but she likes it way better than the vampire thing."

"Can't blame her. I do too."

"So do I-" Simon didn't get the chance to complete his sentence before, out of nowhere, something long, black, and huge collided violently with his body, lifted him off his feet, and sent him flying through the air and into the side of the nearest building, knocking him clean out and eliciting a sharp cry of surprise from Clary. Simon wouldn't know what hit him.

Neither did Clary. She turned to face her opponent in time to see the huge black mass flying toward her next.

* * *

**So I got a review last chapter for some more suspenseful stuff to happen to keep you all coming back each update. So I tried it. What'd ya think? **

**Also, quick question: Obviously something is going to have to happen with Asmodeus at the end. Any ideas? Maybe something with Magnus, being his son and all? Any ideas? I'd love to hear them. And any others you may have. Your requests help a lot!**

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. I will update as soon as I can. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys. So I'm really sorry. The amount of time it took me to post this chapter is despicable. It was a tough chapter to write though. I tried to explore a little of Jace's softer side, the one used almost exclusively for Clary. Hopefully it's alright. Tell me what you think!**

* * *

The first thing Clary was aware of was the familiar pressure of a hand in hers. That, and the pain, which seemed pretty residual at this point, but was very much still there. She opened her eyes, which took more effort than it should have. They felt practically glued shut, and she knew she must have been asleep for a while. Her vision slowly came into focus, and she could make out the familiar blue and white pattern of angels on the ceiling of the Institute's infirmary. The light coming in from the windows lining the wall was dim, coating the room in a pinkish-orange hue. The sun was either setting or rising, she couldn't tell which.

The last thing she remembered was the demon, or at least, she assumed it had been a demon. What else could it have been? And even then, she didn't know what kind it had been, there hadn't been time for that, and even if there had, she knew she'd never seen it before. All she knew was that it had been _huge_.

After Simon had been incapacitated, Clary'd had enough time to turn toward the looming threat and could do nothing more before the black mass collided hard with where she'd stood. Her reflexes saved her life in that millisecond, and for one of the few times in her life, she was thankful for being small and quick.

Even that advantage though hadn't been enough. She'd jumped to the side and out of the way just in time and rolled to her feet to face the demon again, her only weapon, a measly seraph blade, drawn and ready-nowhere near the defense she'd needed in a fight like that, but the things was already going in for another blow. Clary had retreated back a few steps, bracing herself for another attack. The black mass had shot toward her again and she had readied herself to defend.

After that, a flare of intense pain throughout her entire body, then nothing. Everything went black.

She turned her head now toward the person holding her hand, and was unsurprised to find it was Jace, sitting in a chair beside her bed. He looked pretty haggard; his hair a mess, his clothes wrinkled, his posture tired. His eyes were closed, though he clearly wasn't asleep. A book lay forgotten in his lap.

As Clary watched him, he opened his eyes and met her gaze, only to jolt slightly in surprise at seeing her awake. "Hey," he breathed, squeezing her hand and standing up to get closer to her. He placed a hand on her cheek, relief clear in his features like she'd never seen it before.

Just how bad had it been, exactly? And what was _it_?

"Is Simon okay?" was the first thing she asked. Her voice sounded abnormally scratchy, reinforcing the idea that she'd been out for a long time.

"He's fine," Jace told her, "He woke up after you two got here. He was a little banged up, but the _iratzes_ we gave him did their work pretty quickly. You were in worse shape." His voice cracked on the last part. It was probably the most emotional Clary had ever seen Jace and again she wondered what on earth could have been bad enough to do that to him.

"What happened?" she asked.

He looked like he didn't quite know the answer himself. "What do you remember?" he asked.

Clary shook her head slowly, thinking back again. Her thoughts were still sluggish, coming to her too slowly. "We were walking home," she began, "Talking about… something… And then, out of nowhere, this-this _thing_, I don't know what it was, but it was really huge, it came out of nowhere and sent Simon flying into a building. Knocked him out cold. Then it came at me and I got out of the way at first and stood to fight it. And then something hit me from behind, I think, because it really hurt, but that's all I remember."

Jace nodded, looking pretty far away. Slowly, he brought his eyes back to meet hers again, holding her hand gently in both of his. "We knew something was going on pretty quickly after you and Simon left," he explained, his voice steady and completely earnest. "The Sensors went berserk, buzzing and heating up like crazy. Even with that, we wouldn't have known as quickly as we did, had Izzy not had one in her pocket…" He allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he told her about how Isabelle had jumped straight up in the air and let out a sharp cry of surprised pain before quickly yanking the black Sensor out of her back pocket before it could burn a hole through it. As it was, it had turned the denim black, effectively ruining her jeans, which she was none too pleased about. Normally, Jace would have had a field day with something like that.

"Anyway," He said, schooling his expression again as he continued his explanation, "We took off immediately, but I… I just _knew _it was bad." He looked at her again, still gripping her hand firmly in his own. "The demon had to be seriously powerful and would had to have gotten very close, very fast." He shook his head. "I just had a bad feeling… I knew you were in trouble. Even if you hadn't just left…"

Clary sighed and attempted to lean toward him before quickly abandoning the idea, wincing in pain as she did so. "Hey, I'm okay."

Jace just shook his head and leveled his eyes with hers again. "You were on the ground when we got there," he continued, clearly struggling to keep his voice flat, emotionless. He would fight his feelings until the end, it seemed. "Broken. Lying in a pool of your own blood." His voice cracked slightly, but he continued, speaking through his teeth as anger flared up in place of the other emotions. "And that _thing_," he spit the word, "It was there too, looming over you, _toying_ with you, when it easily could have just killed you right away, and that's when I knew. That thing came from _him_." His eyes, which had drifted away as he had spoken, came to meet hers again. She didn't need clarification on who "he" was. "He ordered it to find you and torture you. And Clary, that's it. I'm going to kill him. Myself. I don't care if it can't be done. I'll find a way. I swear on the Angel I will _kill _that-"

"Jace," she interrupted, squeezing his hand as tightly as she could manage. He stopped talking and met her eyes, and for just a second, she swore she could see the angry flames in his eyes again. "Come here." He just stood there, looking at her until she repeated, slightly harsher, "_Come here._" He stepped toward her and then obliged her further, sitting down at the edge of the bed. She leaned toward him, ignoring the pain, and kissed him, fiercely at first, and then more tenderly. "Better?" she asked after pulling away to look at him.

"Slightly."

"Good."

"I am still going to kill him."

"And I'm going to help you."

"Not if I have any say in the matter."

"You don't." He allowed a smile then, small but real, and that made Clary feel better. She could understand Jace's bloodlust. She shared it. She just didn't like seeing him that way, torn so violently between rage, fear, and protective love that it seemed physically painful for him.

"I know," he said, "I'd have kept you locked inside and safe a long time ago if I did."

"I'm not fragile," she chided.

He gave her a once-over and cocked an eyebrow. She smacked his arm weakly, finding it easier to ignore the throbbing in her limbs. "Not normally."

"I know. You're the strongest person I know. It's one of the many reasons I love you."

Clary smiled and hesitated a moment before broaching the subject of the attack again. "What… what kind of demon was it? I only saw it for a second, but I know it's not one I've ever seen before."

Jace sighed. "It was a Morrow demon. It was so focused on you, we were able to take it out pretty quickly."

"A Morrow demon?" Clary was almost certain she'd never heard of it.

Jace nodded. "They've been extinct for almost five hundred years. Supposedly. Though, clearly, that assumption is out the window now. Don't tell Alec. He really doesn't like it when things that are supposed to be extinct, aren't." He grinned at that last part, the familiar Jace she knew and loved making an appearance for the first time. Clary couldn't help but smile back in response.

"He doesn't know? Wasn't he with you?" she asked.

Jace shrugged half-heartedly. "He knows you and Simon were attacked, that Izzy and I took care of it, and that you were hurt-he did ask about you a few times, by the way. But no, he didn't come with us. As bad as it was, it would have been worse if he had. With where his head's been lately, he wouldn't have been much help." _That's why I'm worried about what will happen if and when Asmodeus shows up. _He didn't have to say it for Clary to know it was true. The thought was a sobering one, though it certainly wasn't the first time it had crossed her mind.

She gave his hand, which still held hers across their laps, a squeeze and leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder. They were quiet for a minute before Jace spoke again, his voice as quiet and serious as she'd ever heard it. "It was really bad, Clary. I really thought you weren't going to make it for a while there." He wrapped his arm around her and gently pulled her close to him, which nicely emphasized his words. "It was the worst three days of my life." His words were so tender and emotion-filled, she could almost feel her heart shatter, hearing them. Jace; strong, solid, ever-sarcastic Jace had almost lost it completely, worrying about her. The thought made her heart both swell and break at the same time, though two words brought her up short.

"_Three days?"_

He looked at her and nodded earnestly. "It was bad, Clary," he repeated. "Your parents have been camped out in one of the spare bedrooms, staying by your side ever since. The only reason they aren't now is because Maryse literally forced them to come eat dinner. It's really the first time they've left you for more than five minutes." He smirked, "Figures, you would wake up now. It's my god-like looks and charming personality; I knew it. Nothing and no one can stay asleep for long in my presence."

"Yeah," Clary said, wincing as another stab of pain shot across her torso, "That's it, I'm sure."

In response, Jace removed his _stele _from his pocket, took her arm in his hands, and proceeded to trace the lines of the familiar pain-relieving rune into the skin of her forearm. She could feel it working immediately and was grateful. "Demon venom," he said, placing the _stele _on the side table next to him and wrapping her in his arms again, "Fun, isn't it?"

"No," Clary muttered, closing her eyes against him, "Shut up." She could almost feel him smiling in response.

* * *

Simon couldn't remember ever feeling as relieved as he did when he found out Clary was awake. He'd gotten next to no sleep the last three nights, replaying and dreading the possibility of her not making it every moment since he had woken up in the infirmary and had seen the shape she was in. The extreme headache he'd had from the attack didn't even register with him until long after.

She had just been sprawled there in the bed beside his, bruised and bloodied almost beyond recognition-a sight that would haunt him for a long, long time. He'd just stood there watching, helpless, as Maryse, Izzy, and Jace had worked frantically over her, cleaning, and stitching, and drawing _iratzes; _the latter distraught to the point of complete silence as he worked, speaking only to yell orders to the others to hurry up or hand him a bandage, or get out of the way, all of which had included more than a few obscenities before the stoic silence returned.

Never had Clary seemed smaller and weaker than she had in those long, painful moments.

She still looked pretty bad, her skin still lightly bruised and red from the burns of the venom, despite the many healing runes, and she was still in some obvious pain, but Simon didn't care. She was alive, and awake, and she was going to be okay. That was all he cared about.

It was obvious, even to him, what Asmodeus was doing, weeding them out one by one, hitting them each where they would be hurt the most. And in a sick way, it made sense. Returning his mother's memories had been meant to make Simon feel alone and hated. Making Magnus sick not only affected him, but also Alec. Sending that _thing _after Clary had not only hurt her physically, impeding her ability to fight and defend herself, but Jace, because she was his one weak point. Stealing their sleep and their peace of mind wasn't enough; he had to keep going further and further until they couldn't function properly at all. That was how he planned to win. Simon knew it was true, and the others probably did too.

But they were better than that. Asmodeus wasn't winning this war, not after everything they had all been through and fought for. They had come too far to let a demon, no matter how powerful it may be, get the best of them in the end. They could fight back too. Because they were Shadowhunters and that was what they did; they were stronger than that. Way stronger.

And Asmodeus would pay for everything. If no one else did, Simon would make sure of that.

* * *

Alec sat, leaning forward with his head in his hands, in his chair, the one he had pulled up to Magnus' bedside two weeks earlier, when he had first gotten sick. And Alec had been in it so much since then, he was sure there would be a permanent impression of his body imprinted into it when this was all over; when Magnus got better.

If Magnus got better-

_No. _No. He wasn't allowing himself to think like that. Only hopeless people thought like that and he was not going to let himself lose hope. He couldn't. Things had never been as good between the two of them as they had been before he'd gotten sick. Alec had never been so happy. And he wouldn't allow himself to dwell on the unknowns of the situation or its potential to leave him unhappy once more. He couldn't.

"Please," he found himself whispering. He wasn't sure exactly who he was talking to; Magnus, or Raziel, or himself, or maybe no one at all. He just repeated it again. And then again. "Please. Please." Eventually the word would lose its meaning, maybe it already had, but it was more of a mantra anyway. _I'm losing my mind... _Maybe he already had.

It wasn't that Alec wanted to stay and watch Magnus suffering, torturing himself in the process. But he wanted to be the first person the warlock would see if-when-he woke up.

Magnus shifted, entombed in the same restless sleep he'd been in pretty much since he'd taken up residence in the room. And when he did break free from it, he was so groggy and disoriented, Alec wondered if he knew where he was or who he was with at all. It was all the Shadowhunter could do to get food and water into him at uneven intervals. Things weren't looking very good.

With a heavy sigh, Alec sat up and leaned back, this thoughts shifting to other things. Jace had been in to check on Alec at least once a day, making sure he was eating and sleeping regularly. He wasn't. He'd barely left the small, dark room for the last two weeks. It was taking its toll on him, but it was worse to be away. So he stayed.

He'd been up to the infirmary the day before, both out of concern for Clary and because he owed Jace that much, with everything he'd done for him the past two weeks, to check in on her. The attack had been bad and Alec felt guilty that he hadn't been around to help, and even worse because he knew why they hadn't asked for it. And he knew they were right.

He was losing his mind.

But he wasn't giving up; not on Magnus, or the others, or even himself. He knew there was only one way out of this mess, and every day brought him closer and closer to taking care of that worthless demon himself. For good.

He knew how badly Jace wanted Asmodeus for himself after what had happened with Clary. But what Jace didn't know was that he wasn't the only one with the greater demon in his sights. Alec did too.

And if it came down to rock-paper-scissors, so be it.

* * *

**Okay, so hopefully Jace wasn't too OOC. I know normally he would never be like that, but he did always have a more sensitive side that only Clary was ever allowed to see. I was kind of banking on that for this chapter.  
**

**So, thoughts, concerns, suggestions? IDEAS would be great. I want something to happen that focuses on Izzy before the end of all this. Anything you have would be great. I would love to hear it!**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and I promise to have the next update up sooner than this one. Until next time... :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys! A quick update! I know, it's a miracle. And you know what else is a miracle? I finally figured out how I am going to end this story! Finally, I know where I am going with all this, as opposed to just kind of wandering in the dark and hoping I'd figure it out soon. And you know what that means? Faster updates from now on! Yayyyy! Hopefully that's exciting news, otherwise, well, I'm just here, making a fool of myself for nothing. Whatever.**

**Anyway, so thank you to MoonCharm134 for your idea from a while back. It actually helped me out this chapter!  
**

**Thanks for the reviews last chapter and for all the follows and favorites! And hopefully you enjoy this new (and kinda long) update!**

* * *

"So, the Mortal Instruments, then? You're officially sticking with that?" Clary asked Simon, in reference to his band, which he, in passing comment, had mentioned needing to get back in touch with one of these days. With everything else going on, his days of garage band practices and weekend gigs had sadly been put on the backburner, yielding to the more pressing matters of his life. For all he knew, they still believed him to be a vampire after their recent memory dump, courteous of Asmodeus, dirt bag extraordinaire. That would be an interesting conversation, convincing them now that he _wasn't._

"Hopefully," he answered, "It _is_ the longest we've ever had a single name last, but you know Eric. No guarantees."

"Well it's certainly better than Rock Solid Panda or Millennium Lint."

Simon grinned, "Don't forget Sea Vegetable Conspiracy. That one's my personal favorite."

Clary shook her head, smirking, before giving in to a laugh. "So bad," she said.

Beside her, Jace had stopped and looked at Simon with a raised eyebrow. "Wait a minute," he said slowly, hearing that one for the first time, "You named your band _Sea Vegetable Conspiracy_? Did you _want _anyone to come see you?"

"It only stuck for, like, a week," Simon defended.

Jace just shook his head mournfully. "I knew we should have left you a Downworlder while we still had the chance. That's… just awful." Clary laughed. Simon honestly had to agree, though he would never admit it.

It had been a good few days now since the Morrow demon incident, and Clary was back on her feet again, with only a slight limp, and sometimes, an occasional wince, which she was good at hiding, to show anything had ever been wrong with her at all.

The three of them had just returned from a quick cursory perimeter around the immediate area, which the Shadowhunters had taken to conducting twice a day over the last week; a one mile radius check in all directions to confirm nothing out of the ordinary was occurring. Apparently, the incident the other night had rattled them all more then they would admit. Still, Jace must have been pretty positive that they wouldn't find anything, because he'd allowed Clary to come. And despite having made her promise to sit out at the first sign of trouble, Simon knew that even Jace, despite just how much sway Clary had on him, had to know that she would never do anything of the sort. More likely, it was probably just an excuse to get out and blow off steam for a while.

"Well you can put your condescending mind at ease. That name died a natural death a long time ago," Simon said, defending himself against Jace's words, as they rounded the corner away from the elevator, further inside the Institute.

Jace scoffed, "At ease? Need I remind you, I had Heaven's fire in my veins for two months, wreaking havoc whenever I so much as _thought _about losing my cool? No need to worry, Bloodsucker. _At ease _is my middle name." His tone was as arrogant as ever. Honestly, Simon wondered how Clary put up with him, though clearly the Jace she saw and the Jace the rest of the world saw were two completely different beings altogether. Still, even after they had started getting along better, Simon found himself wanting to punch the cocky smirk right off the other Shadowhunter's face about half the time.

"Oh really? I thought it was-" Simon's snide retort was interrupted as they rounded the final corner, leading to the main living area of the Institute and he almost ran right into Isabelle. "Woah! Hey-" She gave him no time to complete his thought, but rather grabbed his hand and hauled him off, rather forcibly, back the way he had come. Jace's resulting chuckle died off quickly in the distance they put between it and them.

"Izzy, what-" Simon began, but was cut off again when, the moment they turned the corner, Isabelle shoved him inside the nearest room, which happened to be an unused guest room, and kicked the door shut behind them. She shoved him against the wall, _hard_, and before Simon could get the chance to form a coherent thought, her lips were against his, desperate and forceful, making any attempt he'd been making at thinking clearly vaporize instantly.

Still, something was clearly wrong, and Simon fought against the growing fog, willing himself to pull away. "Iz-" Her lips cut him off again as she wrapped her arms around him and knotted her hands tightly in his hair. She was wearing gear-probably, she'd just come back from the training room. A soft groan escaped his throat as desire flared up violently inside him. It took all his willpower to pull away, fighting as she moved closer still. "Iz. Isabelle-" She was having none of it.

Switching gears, Simon gave into her for a few seconds; long enough to maneuver their bodies so she was the one up against the wall and her hands had moved down to his chest. He pulled away again, locking her arms at her sides. "Isabelle," he said, his voice deeper than he would have liked, "Izzy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she answered quickly, straining toward him again.

"Don't give me that. We've been through this before. Talk to me, what's the matter?"

She made the mistake of meeting his eyes and, just like that, all the fight drained out of her. Tears began to fall. "I… I-last night… Last night, I couldn't sleep. The nightmares-I just kept seeing him. He looked exactly the same, and he just kept looking at me with those eyes-"

"Who?"

"Max!" she yelled through her tears, "Who else, Simon?" She shook her head and focused on something just past his head. "He just kept looking at me and he said-he said 'Why did you let me die? Why didn't you do anything?' He just kept asking me over and over again, and I-I didn't know what to say; I couldn't say anything. Finally I woke up for the last time and I couldn't take anymore so I got up. I went to the kitchen for some water, and when I passed the library, my mom was in there. And she was with _him_-with my dad." She took a gasping breath.

"Your dad was here last night?" Simon asked, bewildered.

Isabelle nodded, looking miserable. "They were both there, sitting together, talking and laughing like nothing had ever happened between them, like everything was okay. Like he hadn't done what he did to her. And then-then he just leaned forward and kissed her. And she let him! After everything that happened, she just let him! She kissed him back!"

"And you're mad about that," Simon summed up.

"Yes, I'm mad about that! After what he did to her, to me, to all of us, she's just gonna let him right back in again?! I know I'm supposed to want that, but I don't. She's happier and better off without him. I thought she'd moved on. _I'd _moved on, but then, last night, I saw him and I just-I hate him all over again."

Simon moved his hands from where they'd been restraining her arms and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him as she cried. "That's not true."

"Yes it is. He's my own father, and I can feel nothing but hatred for him. He-he left us, Simon! He took that freaking job and decided we didn't matter anymore. He cheated on my mom. He stopped caring. He practically disowned Alec because he's gay. And I know I shouldn't feel this way, I feel awful that I do, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get, and I just can't help it." Simon tightened his grasp on her as she cried into his T-shirt. "I just-I'm worried about Alec and Magnus, and about what will happen next. Obviously Asmodeus is taking us out one by one, and I'm the only one he hasn't gotten to yet, and I'm terrified. The dreams about Max and now this- I can't take it anymore. I hate this so much and I can't take anymore."

"Isabelle," Simon said softly, his mind whirling, stroking her hair with his hand in, what he hoped, was a comforting manner. He didn't know how to say all that he wanted to say, where to even begin. "First of all, what happened to Max was not your fault." She started shaking her head, but he spoke up quickly, "It isn't! It's not your fault and from what I've heard, I really doubt he'd be mad at you for it, even if it had been." He paused, waiting for her to protest, but she didn't, simply listened, her face buried in the crook of his collarbone. "And, I don't know if you've thought of this or not, but I think Asmodeus already had gotten to you, last night, that he's getting to you right now." That sparked her attention. She looked at him, waiting. "I read in a textbook, back before my Ascension, when I had to cram as much Demonology as I could, I remember reading about Asmodeus. And it said that he was the greater demon of lust, that he can twist people's thoughts and desires, make them think they want someone, love someone, even, when they don't. Sound familiar?"

She looked to be thinking about it. "You… you think that's what's happening to my parents?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, you said yourself; it's been nine months. They'd moved on. What other reason is there?" Slowly, Isabelle's expression turned a little less skeptical as Simon's words hit their mark. "You know what else that book said?" he asked quietly? She met his eyes again, waiting once more. "It said that he's a gambler. He's gambling with you, Izzy. Your weak points aren't physical, so he can't hit you there. But Max, your parents… they're your weak points, and he's exploiting them for all they're worth. He's gambling with you, Izzy. Don't let him win."

"I just… I thought I'd finally moved on, you know? Made peace with all that. But now… now I don't know. I've tried training. It doesn't help. All I want to do is curl up and cry, I mean, how _pathetic_ is that?" Simon waited and she continued, growing calmer as the gears turned, "But… I guess this all would make a lot more sense, looking at it like that…"

"Don't let him win," Simon repeated, softer now, and leaned his head down to rest on her hair. "You're stronger then that."

"I know... Thanks, Simon."

"Hey," he said, cupping her face in his hands and gently forcing her to meet his eyes, "I love you, you know."

She nodded, moving to rest her forehead against his. Her face was still hot and flushed from crying, but the tears had stopped and she seemed more at peace in that moment than Simon had seen her in weeks. "I love you too."

Slowly, they moved even closer still, closing what was left of the gap between them, and his lips met hers as the kissing resumed again, slower, gentler, more loving than before; still passionate, but on a whole different level now.

Simon's thoughts clouded again, and this time, he allowed it, welcoming the feeling of release from his own pressures as well, as the rest of the world faded and all that remained, for just that moment, was Isabelle.

* * *

Alec walked the hallway leading toward what had become Magnus' room, feeling hollow, disconnected, insubstantial, like a ghost. He tried to remember the last time he'd slept, like, _actually _slept, or the last time he'd eaten before now. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember having left Magnus' side for an extended period of time at all since the warlock had fallen ill, except right after the Morrow demon attack to check on Clary and Jace, and even that had only been for maybe ten minutes, tops.

The only reason he wasn't with Magnus now, and hadn't been for maybe fifteen minutes, was because Jace had given him an ultimatum: Alec either came to the kitchen and choked down some food, or Jace was going to knock him out and stuff it down his throat himself. And Alec didn't doubt his parabatai was crazy enough to try it, and also most likely succeed, but even with that, he probably wouldn't have complied, albeit reluctantly, except that he knew Jace was right, and it did scare him how much of a toll all of this had taken on him. So he had followed Jace out of the room and toward the kitchen, had forced down the sandwich the latter had gone through the trouble of actually _making _for him, not even bothering to taste it, and left again without a word. And Jace didn't even try to protest. Even he, Jace Herondale, who never, ever, gave up on anything, had given up trying.

It was like no one knew who he was anymore. And Alec didn't blame them. He didn't recognize himself either. It was a stranger who looked back at him in the mirror in the bathroom, the handful of times he even bothered to actually look: wan, tired, sullen, at least twenty pounds lighter, blue eyes dull and lifeless, even to himself. He didn't know who that was, certainly not Alexander Lightwood, but he couldn't find it in himself to care either. Not with Magnus, his reason for living, in the shape he was in. No, it didn't matter how bad of shape Alec was in. Magnus was so much worse.

All of this circled weakly in his half-functioning mind as he shuffled the last few steps to the door of the small room and stumbled inside, only to freeze in place, eyes widening in utter shock, his heart jolting so hard in surprise, it was almost painful.

Magnus.

Magnus was…

He was awake, sitting up, legs draped casually over the side of the bed, hands moving swiftly as he buttoned up his shirt. Alec blinked, and then blinked again, disbelieving. Magnus finished with his shirt and then stood to his feet, looking almost as well as if nothing had ever happened. His dark hair had grown out over the weeks he'd been bedridden and now, without any of its gel or usual product, hung loosely, framing his face, making him look much younger. He met his boyfriend's eyes and smiled. "Alec, dear." That voice. It had been so long since Alec had heard that voice. "I was wondering when you would show up, after I woke up all alone."

"Uhhh," Alec's throat seemed swollen, his mouth dry. His brain was moving too slowly for speech.

Magnus just set him with a tender look. "You seem to have lost the ability to speak, Alexander, and you look terrible. Are you feeling alright?"

Alec blinked one more time before he finally remembered how to move. His joints unlocked and the next thing he knew, Magnus was in his arms and he was kissing him. He'd never felt so relieved before, and the intensity of the emotion was almost too much to handle. "Magnus," he said after a heated moment. His voice was so much weaker than he'd wanted, but at the moment, he couldn't have cared less, "Oh my God."

"How long have I been here?"

Alec shook his head, still dazed, "Like…three weeks."

The warlock didn't seem to have expected that. His eyes widened. "_Three weeks? _I'm sorry, Alec. I'm so sorry."

"How are you…What…?"

Magnus shook his head, "I'll explain, I will, but its something everyone needs to hear. Are they here?"

"Who?" Alec's thoughts were still too sluggish. Magnus was the one who'd recently woken up from a coma, and, yet, Alec was the slow one. Go figure.

Magnus replied patiently, though he did raise an eyebrow. "Your family. Jace, Clary, whoever's here." He looked to be trying not to smirk.

Finally, Alec's brain began functioning again. "Oh, right. They're- yeah they're here, I think. Somewhere."

Magnus was already walking, leaving him still standing there, watching him go. "Good, well we need to find them immediately." He stopped a foot from the open door and looked back, brushing a lock of hair impatiently to the side. "And as soon as that's done, we need to find some scissors. I mean, seriously, do you see this?" he asked, gesturing to his hair, "Terrible. Coming?"

"Um, yeah, I guess," Alec answered, and started, rather ungracefully, after him.

"Wonderful. And do stop gaping, darling, it makes you resemble a fish a bit too much for my liking." Alec snapped his mouth closed, unaware until just then that it had been open at all.

Hurrying to catch up and with his brain once again operating, though still far from over its initial shock, Alec asked, "What's so important that you have to tell everyone right away?"

Magnus' pace didn't slow as he looked into Alec's eyes and, completely serious, answered, "I think I know how to defeat my father."

* * *

**And there you have it. Bet you weren't expecting that! And if you were, well, maybe you should be writing this story and not me because you're clearly better at it... haha. Anyway, Magnus is awake! Yay! :) **

**I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought, predictions, comments, anything at all. I'd love to hear from you! Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey everyone! I know, two updates in one week! I'm on a roll! I actually finished this chapter (along with an extra part of 1,066 words that I decided to put in the next chapter instead) back on Wednesday, but this week has been so chaotic, I haven't had a chance to re-read and edit it until now. Sorry about that...  
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**So, I took a little creative liberty on this chapter. It's all still canon, and stuff, don't worry, but I did delve into a side of Magnus that was never actually addressed in any of the books. I've put a lot of thought into it and I have to admit, I'm proud of it, but it is definitely an interesting perspective to have on our favorite warlock. And, if nothing else, I hope you agree!**

**Enjoy :)**

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Clary sat in the library of the Institute, exchanging looks and hidden amused smiles with Simon, who sat in the chair across from her, while Izzy and Jace bickered with each other in between them. She didn't know what the disagreement was about anymore, or even how it had really even begun in the first place, only that it was still going on still getting the two of them absolutely nowhere. She hadn't been paying attention to the conversation prior to it, partly because Jace had been sitting beside her with his arm around her, and also because her extreme lack of sleep in the days following the demon attack made it hard to focus on much of anything anymore when she wasn't up and moving around. If she hadn't known before, she was now becoming very well acquainted with the definition of the word _tired_, and she didn't care for it very much at all.

Maryse sat, working, at the desk on the other side of the large room, ignoring them all completely.

"How do you manage to get your way _every_ time?" Isabelle demanded of her brother. The two had taken to standing for the argument, having abandoned their previous seating in favor of the middle of the area for their face off.

Jace smirked, amused at Isabelle's frustration. "Easy," he answered coolly, "I have a _dazzling_ personality," he snuck a glace beside him at Clary at the reference, "God-like looks, and a knack for getting what I want. It is a fact that is both a blessing and a curse…though I've yet to find a basis for the latter part."

Isabelle only rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and left them there, lingering for a second, before focusing again and leveling him with an annoyed glare. "You're so full of-"

"Well you all are as much fun as ever," A voice interrupted dully, one that instantly silenced the argument and had Clary whipping around in her seat, jaw falling open in shock. "I can see you all are absolutely beside yourselves in concern for me. Thanks for that." There was a beat of stunned silence. Clary was the first to break it.

"Magnus," she breathed in disbelief, eyes wide.

The warlock stood, leaning casually in the doorway as he watched them, looking slightly pale, lacking in glitter, and in need of a haircut, but worlds better than the last time she'd seen him, which had been the day he'd first become sick (Alec hadn't allowed visitors after that, and Clary would never have disrespected Magnus' privacy like that anyway). Alec stood next to him, looking not quite over his own obvious astonishment. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to laugh, cry, or give in to his shock completely and just pass out. "Hi'ya Biscuit," Magnus replied, unabashed, and walked further into the room. Alec followed and threw himself down in the nearest chair.

Clary snuck a glance back at the others, all of whom were still frozen in their various states of surprise, including Maryse, who had stood from her seat at her desk and was staring, open-mouthed. "How… when did you…?" Clary didn't know which question to ask first, or how to coherently form a single one of them.

"Wake up?" Magnus supplied, "About ten minutes ago." He seemed oddly cheerful for someone who was supposed to have just been dying. But then again, he _was_ Magnus. He continued, "But that's not important. Sit down, all of you. You'll want to hear this." His tone, suddenly serious and commanding, left no room for discussion. Isabelle and Jace took their seats with no further dispute. "I think I may have figured out a way to defeat my father."

There was another moment of silence. It was Jace who broke it this time. "Go on."

"First, you need to understand how a warlock's mind differs from that of a human, or even a Shadowhunter or other Downworlder for that matter."

"How is that relevant?" Maryse, who had wandered closer, asked, her tone merely curious, not accusatory.

"Believe me, it's relevant. All warlocks' minds are divided into two parts. As we are half human and half demon, the same is true of our minds. Mine, as well as every other warlock's, has two very differing parts that make up the whole: a human half-what we get from our human parent, and a demon half-from our demonic parent. And this can happen because warlocks are born what they are, and not changed later in life like with a vampire or lycanthrope.

"When we are born, these two parts are very separate and distinct and the human part has the most control over the mind as a whole, allowing for a very human-like child, aside from the obvious physical characteristics that label us as different from the start. For the first few years of life, the human side of the mind rules because the demonic part only grows with knowledge. Meaning, only after a certain age is reached, and with it, a certain intellectual level, can that demon side of the mind begin to grow and take shape, as overall intelligence increases, with common sense, among other things. Powers develop, judgment is clouded, and most of the time, conscience is overruled by its own evil, demonic nature.

"As a warlock gets older, however, and becomes one with its magic, begins to get a handle on it as a whole, this forces the two parts of the mind together, as the human, logical side collides with the untamed, powerful beast that is its other half, in order to restrain it. The longer the warlock does this and the better it gets at it, those two parts of the mind begin to fuse closer and closer together, like an intricate puzzle, until, eventually, they become almost like one." Magnus stopped talking for a minute, maybe to let them all digest what they'd just heard. After a while though, Clary began to wonder if that really was all he'd had to say and, if so, what it really did have to do with anything. She was just about to speak up, when Simon beat her to it.

"And that's what happened to you," he said, "You mastered your powers and the two parts of your brain combined into one?"

Magnus nodded. It was another few seconds before he spoke again. "My father only has control over the demonic side-his side-of my mind, and even then, only to an extent because this isn't his dimension. When he first attacked me a few weeks ago, back when this all began, he only got to that part of my mind because it was the only part he _could _get to. The reason it affected me as much as it did was because of just how closely fused the two parts have become over the centuries." He paused again, taking a breath before continuing. "You all thought I was in a coma all that time, and I guess I was in a sense, but not in the way you'd think. During that time, my body was so dead to the world because my mind was that much more alert…" He trailed off again; letting that, too, sink in. He met Clary's eyes then, as if he knew she was close to getting it.

And then it clicked. "Wait…" she said, mulling it over once more in her lingering doubt. If she was right, it would at least answer the first of her questions, how he was so alive and well in the first place if he was under as great an attack as he was.

Magnus was already nodding. When he spoke a second later, confirming her suspicions, his voice was quiet. "It took me three weeks to separate the two. I didn't know it could actually even be done until I tried it." He shrugged, but shuddered slightly despite himself and Clary got the feeling that the process hadn't been a pleasant one. "That demonic part of my mind is still writhing in pain somewhere, but I've gotten far enough away from it now that it hardly affects me anymore. This," he gestured to himself, "is the completely human part of me. Being separated from that other half though, also means that I'm separated from my power. Right now," his tone dropped slightly, "I'm not much more useful to you than a mundane." He said the last word like an obscenity, clearly unhappy about it. "I couldn't do magic for you like this if my life depended on it."

Clary let that sink in, stealing a glance across the room at Alec, who sat, watching Magnus with wide, faraway eyes as he processed what all of this meant for him. It was clearly his first time hearing any of this as well.

"Being a mundane isn't so bad," Simon said.

Clary nodded her agreement. "Simon took out a greater demon while he was one."

Magnus set the two of them with a _Not Helping _look. "I'm talking about a normal, useless mundane. You two were Shadowhunters, even then." Simon looked sympathetic, if not slightly gratified with that answer.

"Sorry," Maryse said, not sounding it, "But I still don't see what this has to do with your father, or with helping to defeat him."

"I was getting to that part. This story has many layers. Like an onion." Magnus answered.

"Ah," was her only response.

"Anyway," Magnus continued, "This is the tricky part. There's a chance, not a great one, but better than anything else we've got, that we can use that other part of my mind against my father, since, technically, it is a part of him as well."

"How would you do that?" Isabelle asked.

"I need to speak to Catarina before any official plan is made, so I won't go into great detail because they aren't all worked out yet, but my thinking was this. Any powerful demon is going to require a sacrifice of some kind as a requirement for leaving you alone. We already know what my father's idea of an appropriate sacrifice looks like." Clary shuddered his words and Jace put his arm around her. "But, back in Edom, when I was willing to give up my immortality to get you all out of there, he seemed to deem that an appropriate offering before Simon interfered, and its possible something like that, on a slightly more complicated scale, would work here." Halfway through his last sentence, Alec's head had snapped up and he had stared at Magnus with wide eyes. Clary wasn't sure where exactly Magnus was going with this, but if her thoughts were anything close to it, she wouldn't like it. And from the looks of it, Alec was thinking the same thing.

"What are you saying, exactly?" Alec asked, his reservations about the answer obvious in his voice.

Magnus met his eyes and held his gaze for a moment before answering. Some kind of silent communication passed between them. "I'm saying, I think it may be possible to do that again, give up my immortality. Only this time, rather than offering it, we'd force it on him." There were a few soft gasps as the truth of his words registered with everyone.

Alec shot to his feet so fast, the chair he'd been sitting in slid backward about a foot. "Magnus!"

"Alec, it's the only way-"

"You'll die!"

"I have to-"

"No, you-!"

"Magnus is right," Jace interrupted, his voice so quiet, Clary was surprised he'd been heard over his parabatai's yelling, and even more so that it had stopped it. It was the first time he'd spoken since the start of the conversation.

"What!?" Alec turned on Jace now.

"Alec-"

"Don't 'Alec' me! You have no idea what you're saying! _You're _not the one who would lose on this deal! _You're _not the one who would lose the person that means the most in the world to you! You-"

"Alec," Magnus interrupted.

Alec stopped, and when he spoke again, his was the voice of a broken man. "What?"

"Don't blame this on Jace. It isn't his idea."

Alec's jaw clenched and loosened once in obvious pain before he spoke again, his tone angrier. "You're right, it's not. It's _yours._ And I'm not going to sit around and listen to you plan your own death because of some whim that probably won't work anyway." With that, Alec turned on his heal and stalked from the library with six pairs of eyes trailing after him as he did.

Silence reigned for a solid thirty seconds, and Clary didn't know what to think. Part of her wanted to cry because no, Magnus couldn't give up his life for them, that wasn't how any of this was supposed to work. The other wanted to be mad at Jace for taking Magnus' side on the matter, but she couldn't do that either, because, deep down, she knew he was right. Because what Magnus wanted to do, whether it worked or not, was for the right reason and was the best hope the rest of them had at coming out of this thing alive. And if Jace knew anything, it was sacrifice. Mostly, she just longed for something, anything, else that would fix this; something that wouldn't result in more loss or pain for any of them. All of her was just so sick of it all.

Magnus stared out the door where Alec had fled before facing around again and turning his face down to the floor with his eyes closed. He stayed that way for a few seconds before looking up again. He sighed. "I'll be right back," he said, before turning toward the exit and heading out the same way Alec had gone, leaving the rest of them to stare at each other in shocked, anguished silence.

* * *

**Sooo? What did you think? I'd really love to hear your feedback. What could happen from here, will he make it, will he not? What do you think? I'd like to know. :)**

**Thanks for reading, and, as I pointed out earlier, chapter 15 is already about half-way finished from what I cropped out of this chapter and moved to that one, so hopefully that should be up pretty soon.**

**Review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello! Here is the next chapter! It's a little short, but it's up ridiculously early, so hopefully you'll forgive me. :)**

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Alec didn't know what is was about the dusty, vacant corner room in the northeast quadrant of the Institute, what made it so different from the rest of the rooms, or why it had been his refuge during stressful times, when he just wanted to be alone and sulk, for as long as he could remember, except that it was quiet and about as far away as he could get from everyone at any given time, and that no one would ever know to look there for him. The skyline view of New York City didn't hurt either.

He sat on the window seat, one leg bent in front of him, crossed arms resting on top of it, the other draped over the side, staring out the window and trying to pretend, for just a minute, that his life didn't suck so much.

He couldn't believe this. After everything they'd been through and all the hurtles they'd gotten over together, here Magnus was, willing to throw all of that away, willing to die and leave Alec alone and broken once again. And the worst part, the one that not only made him feel guilty for opposing Magnus as he did, but that also gave him no real ground to stand on in doing so, was that, as much as it hurt to admit, Magnus was right. It was the only chance the rest of them had of coming through this alive. How could he, a Shadowhunter, mandated to serve and protect, to lay his life down in the defense of the cause, oppose Magnus wanting to do exactly that?

The answer: he couldn't. And he hated himself for so badly wanting to.

His miserable solitude lasted about ten minutes before the bedroom door opened and closed again, obviously emitting someone into it. Alec didn't turn to see who it was, but he had a pretty good idea. Whoever it was didn't come closer then the door. He waited. As he sat there, staring out the window, he was beginning to feel the effects of his weeks without proper nutrition and rest, now that the shock was wearing off. He felt more exhausted then he could ever remember feeling before.

"Alec," a painfully familiar voice said softly, making Alec's heart jolt in his chest, despite his frustration. Magnus came closer, stopping just a few feet behind him. Alec couldn't bring himself to turn around."

"Alec," Magnus repeated, "Please look at me."

"Why?" he demanded, suddenly fighting tears with everything in him, "If you're just going to leave me anyway?"

"I would never leave you, Alexander."

At that, Alec finally looked at him. "You're willingly going to die and leave me here alone. It may as well be the same thing. Either way has the same result."

"Don't act like I want to. In fact, the last thing I want is to die now, when you have finally given me a reason to _live._"

"Then don't."

"I have to. You know as well as I do that I have to, if for no other reason than that it's the right thing to do. You know it is," he said when Alec had begun shaking his head, trying, and mostly failing, to prevent the tears from falling, but he just didn't have it in him to be strong anymore. Magnus was quiet, watching him for a few seconds before speaking again, his voice quieter, "I'd rather die so you can live, Alec. I've been alive for centuries; you've barely had nineteen years."

"And I don't want to live another minute if you aren't there to share it! Don't you get that!?"

Magnus looked stricken. "I might not die." The only indication Alec gave of having heard him was to meet his eyes, listening. Magnus took a deep breath and continued, "I wasn't going to tell you, because it may not work out and I didn't want to get your hopes up, but…there's a chance… I have to speak to Catarina, but there's a chance I wouldn't die, not right away."

"What do you mean, _not right away_?"

"Right now, the demonic part of my brain is, in a sense, repressed into submission, pushed so far from my conscious mind that, despite the rough shape it's in, it can't get to me. Using it against my father… well, I'd essentially be separating it from me completely and forcing it on him instead, using it's power, my power, and also his power, against him. And it may be enough to stop him. Probably not permanently, but long enough that he wouldn't ever be able to bother you again."

"I don't understand. How would that _not _kill you?" Alec asked, trying to control his voice. He was curious now, if nothing else. At the very least, a move like that would leave Magnus mentally ill for the rest of his life.

"Because my anatomy is different from a mortal's. The two halves don't occupy the same amount of space. From what I can tell from the few things I've read on it over the years, out of pure curiosity, about ninety-five percent of my brain hosts the part of my mind that is human, while only about five percent hosts the demonic part. And while that part is immensely powerful, is the control-center and the end all-be all of my warlock aspects, it doesn't, as far as I know, control any of the actions that are necessary to life. The human part does that, because demons don't actually _need _to breathe or have a beating heart. So its possible that, as long as the demonic half of the mind is safely separated and removed completely, a warlock could, theoretically, survive." He stopped again and seemed to decide whether or not to go on. He apparently decided to. "Alec, if I'm right, as long as we, Catarina and I, can figure out how to safely execute this, I could be okay. And… because the demonic part is what possess the warlock characteristics… immortality included, ridding myself of it…"

Alec literally jolted as he fit together what Magnus was saying. "You would be _mortal_…"

Magnus nodded, his expression an odd one, "If not completely human." Alec blinked, trying to process this new information, his mind whirling with new possibilities. He knew the chances of this actually going off without a hitch were slim to none, Magnus had said as much, and any possibility at all depended on whether the warlocks could figure out how to do it in the first place, but still, he couldn't help but get his hopes up. Just a little bit. "I don't know how realistic a hope it is, Alexander," Magnus' voice was soft but firm, bringing Alec back to reality, "But even if there turns out to be no safe way to do it and I have to die, you have to let me try. I know you feel your life would be meaningless if that happened, but I can still hope you would eventually be proven wrong, that you would find someone else eventually." Even as he said this, Alec was shaking his head. Magnus meant well, he knew that, but he had never been so wrong.

The warlock continued, "I know you don't believe that, and that's fine, but I have to, for the sake of my sanity between now and however much time we have left, I have to believe that. Running from this would be the most selfish thing I could ever do, and it would be for nothing anyway, because we would all die then. It would be evil, and though I am a lot of things, I am not that. It would only be right to give my life to save all of yours, so please, Alexander, don't make it more difficult than it already is. I'm begging you, don't."

Alec was quiet for a minute as they stared at each other. "You realize," he said when he finally did speak again, "That the only way I could ever hope to allow you to try this, for _my _own sanity, would be if I knew you would be okay after, immortal or not… I know how slim a chance it is, and that there is no guarantee, but if you're going to do this, and I know you are, I have to hope for that. No matter how much worse it would make things if you-if it didn't work."

"I know."

"Just-just promise me," as he spoke, he found he was on the verge of crying again and fought hard against it, "Promise me you'll do everything you can, get as much help as you can, to find a way to survive it."

"It's never been done before, Alec. I don't know-"

"Just promise me. Find a way. Try. Please."

Magnus sighed, looking at him with enough pain in his eyes to break Alec's heart, but eventually nodded. "I promise." He started forward again then, until he had Alec's face cupped in his hands. "I do want to survive for you, love. I've never wanted anything more than I want that."

Alec closed his eyes and swallowed against the lump in his throat. That was as much as he to ask for. And if it didn't work, he could only hope that he would die as well, because no way could he live with that kind of pain. "Okay." He kept his eyes closed as Magnus kissed him.

"Okay," Magnus said after a minute, all traces of his formerly somber tone gone, "Now, let's get out of this room, if you don't mind. It is entirely too depressing, and I am allergic to dust."

* * *

The Hunter's Moon was mostly empty, the lunch rush having died down a little while earlier, and getting a table far enough away that they wouldn't be overheard hadn't been much of a challenge for Magnus. Catarina had sat, listening intently and looking only slightly shocked, as he'd explained what had happened and what he planned to do, leaving out no detail. He finished and looked across the table at her, hands clasped together atop it. She didn't speak for a long time, but had sat, processing his words; her white hair and blue skin a deep contrast in the crappy lighting.

"I can see you've put a lot of thought into this, Magnus," she said finally, "Even so, do you think such a thing is possible?"

"I don't know. But I have to try."

"I mean, forcing your nature on your father very well may be accomplishable, but… surviving it?"

"I have to try," he repeated.

"For Alec," she supplied.

Magnus only nodded stoically. "I did some research, a hundred or so years ago, trying to learn more about how our minds worked. I've never given it much more thought than curiosity, and once I learned, I moved on to other things. Like I've said, it's been years, but there was one source I found, back then, that almost implied that the two parts are autonomous. And nothing I found ever suggested that one _couldn't _continue on without the other."

"And you think if the part that functions most in keeping you alive remains in place, you can live to tell the tale."

"That was the general idea, yes."

"Magnus, you would be accomplishing the impossible, if it can even be done at all."

He shrugged. "There's a first time for everything."

She eyed him for a moment. "I'm assuming you've considered the fact that it might leave you mortal?"

"It's all I've thought about," he answered honestly.

"For Alec," she repeated.

"And for myself. I'd really rather not outlive another love. I'm honestly not sure I'd survive the pain again."

"And what if this kills you?"

He shrugged. "It's a chance I have to take. If I don't do anything, chances are all of them will meet their doom, and so will I. And that's unacceptable."

Catarina nodded, obviously understanding, if not agreeing. "You're right."

"So you'll help me?"

She took a deep breath and, eventually, nodded. "I'll help you," she confirmed, and after a few seconds added, "And who knows, if this works, maybe I'll find a way to follow. Immortality's not all it's cracked up to be."

Magnus lifted his drink to his lips for the first time since he'd begun speaking. "Amen to that."

* * *

**So? Thoughts? **

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello! **

**Here is Chapter 16:**

* * *

The morning was a hot one, even for August. The sun bore down on Clary's back and the humid air clung to her like a wet rag as she and Isabelle walked the sidewalks of Manhattan side by side, outfitted in fighting gear and sufficiently armed, which didn't help with the temperature at all. They were patrolling, as had become a normal activity for the New York Shadowhunters as of late, searching the city for demons or anything out of the ordinary-anything that would signal something was about to happen. So far, it was turning out to be an uneventful morning, for which, Clary was grateful. With the increased demonic activity over the past few weeks, it wasn't unusual for there to be more than one demon encounter per patrol, and killing demons, it turned out, took a lot out of someone when they had to do it multiple times a day, every day. Stamina runes helped in the physical sense, but there was no help for mental exhaustion.

"Okay," Isabelle said after a minute of quiet, a complaint in her tone, "It was definitely _not_ this hot last year." She flipped her long, braided hair off her shoulder and away from her neck in disgust. Clary was glad to know she wasn't the only one sweltering, and was gratified to see that Isabelle, who was always beautiful and put together and perfect, was also clearly sweating and overheated.

"Maybe it was. My shorts and T-shirt ensembles of last summer were slightly cooler than all this though." She gestured to herself, "So I wouldn't know, I guess."

"That's true. You weren't one of us yet," Izzy replied, sounding taken aback, "It feels like you've just always been here."

"Thanks."

"It's got to have been almost a year by now though, right? You definitely came before the fall."

"It's been a year," Clary answered, "Exactly a year, actually. Today." She'd noticed that when she'd woken up that morning and her phone had told her the date. She didn't know why, but the date she'd first woken up in the Institute after the Ravener attack had always stuck with her, the day she'd found out what she really was and everything had been put into motion. A date that, that morning, had been one year ago precisely.

Isabelle let out a little gasp in surprise. "Really? Why didn't you say so? We should celebrate!" Clary didn't want to burst her bubble, but she didn't really think now was a great time to be celebrating anything, not with everything hanging over their heads the way it was and the distinct probability of Magnus' death growing nearer and nearer with each passing day.

It had been two days since Magnus had first woken up and explained his plan to everyone, the one which involved him sacrificing himself, possibly for good, for the rest of them. It broke her heart to think about it. The warlock had grown to be practically one of them over the past year. Clary loved him like she loved the Lightwoods. Magnus, with all his sparkle and color couldn't die. He just couldn't.

Despite the horror and tragedy inevitably waiting for them, having some kind of plan to go off of had still put the rest of them into action. Even an awful plan was better than no plan at all. Jace and Alec, the latter of which, Clary thought, seemed to be holding up very well, considering everything he had at stake, had determined that, based on everything that had already happened, the most likely possibility for Asmodeus' final strike would be with demon hordes. As if that was anything new for them. If things went the way they thought, and Magnus agreed it would, Asmodeus would bring up the rear, like the coward he was, prepared to give the deathblows, but do none of the actual fighting himself. Assuming the Shadowhunters could make it through the mass of demons, Magnus' plan would then come into play. With their leader gone and no longer giving orders or strength, the remaining lesser demons in the army would be confused and weak-easy targets. And then it would all be over, Magnus would most likely be gone, and peace would be restored. Yipee.

The end result was all Clary could think about and no, she didn't really want to celebrate it.

As it turned out though, she didn't have to tell that to Izzy just yet, because a Shax demon appeared ahead of them, seemingly out of nowhere. It hadn't seen them yet, though it was only a matter of time, and Clary, despite her utter contempt at the thought of fighting another demon, knew they had no other choice.

"As _great _as that sounds, Izzy, I think we've got bigger problems at the moment." She nodded toward the demon, already unsheathing a misericord blade-a better fit for fighting Shax demons than Heosphoros or even Seraph blades. Isabelle followed her gaze and made a face, clearly no more infatuated with fighting right then than Clary was.

No one really was anymore at this point, except Jace, who was always up for a fight, and maybe Simon, who had only just started and hadn't had time for demon fighting to lose its luster yet. Currently, all the rest of them really wanted was a break.

Izzy uncurled her whip from around her wrist and looked at Clary. "Ready?" she asked unenthusuastically.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Clary answered, and together, they turned and ran together toward the demon, weapons drawn.

They caught the Shax demon by surprise. Izzy lashed out at it with her whip and caught its leg, pulling it, unprepared, off balance. Clary got in a shot, though it wasn't fatal. Izzy, with another flick of her wrist, caught the thing on its torso, opening a deep gash, which spewed black liquid. Clary ran one way around it while Izzy went the other, and after only a minute, Clary found a wide enough opening in its armor and went in for the kill. The girls watched as the demon folded in on itself and vanished.

Taken out in two minutes flat. All the demons they'd fought lately had done one good thing for them, at least. The two of them, together, had become nothing if not efficient.

* * *

Simon stood in the center of the training room, facing the target painted on the side wall, a knife in his hand, two more on the floor next to him, three others scattered on the floor around the target while only one actually stuck shallowly, point first, into it, in the circle farthest from the center bull's-eye, all of which, he'd already retrieved multiple times. He readied himself to throw yet another one, both his patience and the handful of knives he'd grabbed for the exercise, dwindling.

He'd learned many techniques and moves in many different fighting and weapons styles within his short time as a Shadowhunter. Some, he'd excelled at, archery, for instance, and long-staff. Most, he'd been mediocre at best with, but was steadily growing better and better with experience, like swordplay, hand-to-hand combat, and commas (which were actually really fun). Knife throwing, though, had been something of a problem for him since the beginning. He could hold his own fairly well with one in close quarter fighting, but when it came to throwing at-and hitting-a target, to put it bluntly, he sucked. Epically.

He stepped forward, putting his whole body into the throw the way Jace had instructed him to, and the knife left his hand. He actually hit the target (most of his tries found their mark on the wall next to, below, or above it), far to the left, point first, but rather than sticking in, the blade bounced off and toppled to the ground with the others.

"_Urughhh!" _Simon's sound of frustration carried through the large room, with no one there to hear it. Or so he thought.

"Want some help?" The voice came from behind him. He whirled around, surprised, and slightly embarrassed, to find Alec standing in the doorway, watching him, clad in training gear, as Simon was.

It took him a second to get over his surprise and find his voice. Simon hadn't seen Alec since the discussion in the library with Magnus two days earlier. And he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd actually spoken to him. "What?"

"Do you want some help?" Alec repeated slowly. "You look like you could use some."

"I… Sure?" Simon didn't really _want _help. He didn't want to _need_ help. But he couldn't deny that he desperately _did_ need it if he was going to do this right. He'd never had Alec for an instructor, but he knew, beyond a doubt, he would suffer far less mocking from him than he would from Jace. It was his best option, really.

Alec crossed the room. Simon watched him as he did so, trying to figure out what seemed different about him. Obviously he was devastated about Magnus' chances in all of this, far more than the rest of them, but there was something else there too, and that something was clearly what kept him going in spite of all of it. Simon couldn't be sure, but he thought, under Alec's ever-present mask of perfect, emotionless calm, he could detect the smallest bit of… hope? For what, though, he wasn't sure.

Alec came to stand beside Simon, and bent to retrieve the remaining knife off the floor by their feet. He held it in his right hand. "When you throw a knife, you have to make sure you put your whole body into it, rather than just your arm, so you get the most power. Jace told you that, I'm sure." Simon nodded confirmation. "It looks like this." Alec lifted the knife in demonstration, going through the motion of throwing without actually letting it go. Simon watched. He looked to be doing the same thing he was, or was trying to, anyway. Alec held the blade out to him then. "Now you try. Just like that. Do it as if you were going to throw it, but don't."

Simon did as he said, going through the motions. "Like this?"

Alec nodded, and then stepped forward. "Here. Stop. Here's your problem." He pushed Simon's elbow in so it pointed toward the floor, rather than out, which it had been. Simon hadn't known he'd been doing it like that. "Your arm should almost form a right angle when you throw. Having your elbow out like that throws off your aim." Alec adjusted his arm a little more. "There. Try now."

Simon went through the motion of throwing a knife again, paying particular attention to his form. Alec nodded. "Good. Now actually throw it. See what happens."

Simon glanced at him before resetting his position and training his eyes on the target. "Here goes nothing," he said and threw it, keeping his elbow in. The knife left his hand and flew toward the target, where it embedded itself about halfway to the hilt in the second ring from the center. His best shot yet, by far. Simon blinked and stared.

Beside him, Alec smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Told you."

"That's incredible."

"It's all about technique," Alec said as he crossed the room to retrieve the fallen knives, while Simon followed and pulled the two from the target that had stuck, including the one he'd thrown earlier, which was barley hanging on when he got to it. The two of them retreated back to where they'd stood before. "Try to get the bull's-eye now," Alec instructed, and stood, holding the extra blades and watching while Simon threw first one, then the other in his hand. They didn't hit the bull's-eye, but they grew progressively closer each time. He tried again, and then again, with similar results.

The fifth try was the charm. Simon threw it and it stuck in the bull's-eye, not completely centered, but well in the center circle, regardless. "Good job," Alec said.

Simon looked at him, "You know," he said, "You're pretty good with knives."

He shrugged. "Jace is better."

"What _isn't _Jace better at?"

Alec thought about it for a second. "Sitting still." Simon laughed.

When he finished, he looked again at the black-haired Shadowhunter. "Hey," he said, "Thanks. For helping me. I probably could have stood here until the next ice age and still not have gotten it right otherwise."

"You're welcome."

"And, uh…" Simon hesitated, wondering if he should mention it at all, but he'd already begun. "I'm sorry. About everything. Magnus…"

"Yeah," Alec said, looking away and going rigid again.

"It sucks, man." God, why was he still talking?

"Yeah." Alec repeated, and then changed the subject. He held the knife out to him quickly, handle out. "Do it again."

Silently, Simon took the knife and obeyed. He got another bull's-eye, and then proceeded to retrieve the blades from the target and do it once more, getting four out of six in the center circle. Upon retrieving them again, Alec, who had stood silently, watching, stopped Simon before he could do it over again. "Good. Now, do it left handed." He smiled a little as he said it, and Simon couldn't help but note again that, though Alec was far from happy with everything going on, he definitely seemed to be doing really well, considering. For some reason, this made Simon feel slightly better about everything himself as he proceeded to epically fail all over again. If Alec could seem hopeful in spite of a situation like this, maybe he could too.

* * *

Clary mounted the spiral staircase slowly, taking each step at a time, her hand trailing up the railing beside her as she went. It had been ages since she'd been in the greenhouse, and she was pleasantly surprised to find her feet no longer made a racket on the old steps, which had formerly creaked loudly under her tread. In fact, she noted with confidence, she now climbed them, eliciting almost no sound at all.

She was looking for Jace. Having searched his room, the kitchen, the weapons room, and the library for him already, all to no avail, the greenhouse seemed like the next logical choice.

It really had been a long time since she'd been up here and, as she closed the door behind her and entered the huge space, the smell of fresh dirt and living things was a welcome reprieve from the city air she was so accustomed to.

The greenhouse was a few degrees warmer then the air-conditioned Institute, but not so hot as to be uncomfortable. In the setting sun, the room was cloaked in a pinkish light. Clary wandered through the rows of elaborate plants, searching for a familiar head of golden hair.

It didn't take her long to find him. She went, first, to the place she would have gone herself, had she come up here: the shrub with the midnight flowers. Jace was seated beside it, one leg bent up in front of him, the other folded beneath it. He had one arm laid over his knee, and in his hand, he held one of the flowers, closed now, and was twirling it thoughtfully in his fingers. He looked up at her approach and gave a small crooked grin. "Hey," he said as she came to sit by him.

"Hi," she answered, watching him watch her. "I was looking for you."

"You found me, my beautiful little stalker."

Clary smiled. "What are you doing up here?"

"Thinking." He looked back to the flower bud in his fingers. "This is the only place no one will come looking for me." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow accusingly.

She raised her own eyebrows in response, a smile playing at her lips. "Well," she said, and made half an effort to move, "In that case…"

He caught her before she got the chance, wrapping his arm around her torso and pulling her closer to his side. "Oh no you don't."

She gave in and smiled again, settling into his side. "What were you thinking about?"

He smirked and turned to look at her. "You, mostly."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, fighting the flush that threatened to color her face. "Well, I'm flattered. Really."

"As you should be. I don't waste my time daydreaming about just anyone, you know."

"Daydreaming?"

"Yes," he said earnestly, "Is that a problem, Ms. Fray?"

"Wow. It's been a while since you've used that name."

"It's true, I do prefer Herondale for you. As I do intend to marry you someday."

Clary was smiling despite herself at the thought. "Well," she said, "For now, at least, Fairchild will have to do."

Jace smiled at her. "So you've officially embraced the Shadowhunter name. I like it." It had been a while since Clary had last referred to herself as Clarissa _Fray_. After learning the truth about herself and her past, it seemed appropriate that, for official purposes at least, she go by Fairchild. She wasn't sure when exactly she'd made the switch from one name to the other in her mind, only that she now considered herself a Shadowhunter first, and everything else second, so it was only appropriate that her name be the same way. She'd just never actually talked about it. "And I'm sure the Clave will approve."

"Speaking of the Clave, have we heard from them yet? Has Maryse? Are they going to help us?"

Jace, completely serious now, sighed and shook his head. "Still no sure answer. Gia's been fighting on our behalf, but we still have a lot of enemies in the Clave, and they're not so willing to sacrifice more of us in a fight with a Greater Demon that only involves a few. She's doing what she can, but it's not looking good."

Clary shook her head, a strange mixture of disgust and dismay swirling inside her. "So we'll have no choice then but for Magnus…"

Jace sighed again and nodded. "Looks that way." He looked away and let the midnight flower bud fall from his hand, only to clench it into a tight fist. "_God_, it will ruin Alec."

Clary placed a hand comfortingly on his leg. "He seems to be doing alright, considering, almost like there's something he knows that we don't. Maybe there is a chance, some way for Magnus to survive…" she trailed off weakly, not really believing her own words. Magnus had practically said himself that he would die, hadn't he?

Jace only held her closer and said nothing.

* * *

**So this was a bit of a filler chapter. Nothing much happened, but I felt like some stuff did need to be addressed before the major stuff continued, like the Clave situation and stuff. Plus, you just got some Alec/Simon and Izzy/Clary friendship and some Clace, so hopefully that was good. Let me know what you thought! :)  
**

**Thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys. So this chapter is slightly shorter, but I wanted to get something out to you because it has been over a week, and because I don't know when the next update will be because I have an SAT next week and I kinda need to be studying for it... and not writing fanfiction... but I'm a procrastinator... so yeah.**

**Anyway, hope you like it. :)**

* * *

The rune flashed before Clary's eyes between one blink and the next, bringing with it the odd sense of déjà vu, as though she'd seen it before, but it was new, she had no doubt. It was also different somehow, unlike other runes, even those she'd made, though it came and went far too fast for her to figure out exactly why.

She sat on the edge of the Institute roof with Simon, watching the sun set behind the New York skyline, casting the city in the golden glow Clary loved; an oddly peaceful setting in the midst of such a chaotic area. She'd sketched it numerous times from that spot, the place that had become hers and Simon's since his Ascension.

She'd spaced out momentarily with the appearance (and disappearance) of the new rune, and the struggle to recall it again afterward. It happened quickly, but not quickly enough that Simon, whom she had been engaged in conversation with beforehand, didn't notice.

"Hello?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face, "Earth to Clary."

She blinked and knocked his hand playfully out of the way. "Sorry."

He stared at her for a second, eyebrow slowly rising. "You okay?"

"Fine. Just tired." She really didn't feel like explaining, not before she even really knew herself.

Simon looked at her strangely for a second, but apparently decided not to press the issue and continued on with their conversation as if nothing had happened.

* * *

The knife flew in a perfect, deadly arch before penetrating deep into the center of the target, handle vibrating slightly from the force of the impact. Alec didn't hesitate before throwing the next one. Another perfect bull's-eye, exactly next to the first.

Normally, he never wasted his time with knives, always preferring a bow and arrow for target practice, but knife throwing required more physical force, and after helping Simon with it the day before, it was kind of on his mind. He'd never been like Jace in the _beat everyone and everything to a pulp until the world feels just as crappy as I do_ sense when he was upset, usually just preferring to shut the world out and wallow until he moved on. He did a lot of things differently than his _parabatai_, always had, but he was wondering now if he had begun to understand just how Jace had felt in the past, stuck in his own personal Hell with no way to cope except to lash out physically.

It was becoming clear to him that one person, no matter how sane that person was, could only handle so much inner torment before it had to just come out. He'd wondered this off and on throughout the past year when everything had happened, had even deemed it the potential to hold water back right before the Dark War, when Magnus had been kidnapped and Alec hadn't known if he'd been alive or dead, when the only way he'd been able to keep going was by telling himself that he would kill every evil that stood in his way until he found his love, and it had made things slightly easier. Or he'd told himself that anyway. But he'd been able to do something, and whether it actually helped or not, everything had turned out okay.

Now though, there was nothing he could actually _do_ to prevent what was happening, to keep Magnus safe and with him. _That, _he'd determined, was the worst part. Not being able to do anything but wait for the end to come to the first and only person Alec had ever truly loved. Because it didn't matter how hard Magnus and Catarina were working, or how optimistic Alec tried to be around others, deep down, he just knew this wasn't going to end well; that it simply couldn't. Logic wouldn't allow him to believe, truly believe, that it could.

And yet, even in spite of all of that, he found himself hoping against all hope anyway. Magnus had said it was a slim chance, and Alec knew just _how_ impossibly slim, but it was still a _chance._ A chance that Magnus could potentially make it. And even slimmer still, the chance that he could be mortal, practically human, that he could live a normal life for the first time, grow old with Alec and die with him like other couples did. It was something Alec had thought about since the day he'd fallen for Magnus, something he'd gone so far as to pursue behind the warlock's back and almost ruined everything for, and now, the possibility, small as it was, _was _actually a possibility. And if it _could _happen, wasn't it worth the risk? Especially if they'd all most likely die otherwise anyway?

Alec wasn't sure.

What he was sure of though, was that this was killing him. The signs were becoming more and more obvious; the attack was coming soon, very soon. Their time together was running out.

Alec wanted Magnus alive for as long as he lived, whether the warlock grew old along with him or not. But now, it was likely he wouldn't even get that. Alec wouldn't be the one dying first in this relationship after all. Because Magnus was going through with it either way. And it broke his heart.

He let the last of his knives fly, landing it exactly where he'd aimed-just inside the center circle, to avoid hitting the other two already imbedded there, and it was almost like, with every angry throw, a little of the turmoil he felt over their situation went with it. For just a second, he felt slightly better.

He hadn't seen much of Magnus since this whole awful plan had been concocted. The warlock spent every waking moment with Catarina Loss, trying to figure out a way to make the demonic half of his mind into a tangible weapon. From what Alec had heard from the few conversations he'd had with his boyfriend, all of which mostly avoided the sensitive topic, they hadn't been successful yet.

Crossing the room, Alec retrieved his knives from deep in the wall and slid them into his belt, before retreating back across the floor, glancing out the window at the setting sun. It was about time for the nightly sweep of the city. He continued out into the hallway, leaving the training room, in search of Jace, intending to go with him. Anger was overriding everything else Alec felt right then; anger at Asmodeus above all else, and in that anger, he was intent on killing as many of that _thing's _lackeys as possible.

* * *

That night, a lot of things clicked into place for Clary, in a direct way they never really had for her before. The rune epitomized her dreams. A single Mark, like two arrows twisted together. One after the other, appearing over and over, it was there, huge and unmistakable, and so bright, it seemed burned into the fibers of her brain as she shot up in the darkness, suddenly wide awake, breaking free of the relentless image, but understanding it now in a way she hadn't before.

Normally the runes, and eventually their meanings, would come to her in a less aggressive manner, over a span of time. This one though, it was different, it had seemed different when she'd first seen it earlier that evening, and now she knew why. She also knew exactly how important it was that she knew now, and how she had to get the word out as soon as possible.

Wasting no time at all, she flung the covers back from her body and got out of bed, grabbing the first clothes she could find and throwing them on, sliding her stele into her belt, along with a Seraph blade, just in case. She left her bedroom and walked briskly down the halls of the Institute, putting her knotted hair up as she went. She was almost to the elevator when she heard her name. She spun, already knowing who it was.

Jace stood in the dark hall, clad shamelessly in pajama pants and nothing else, looking at her. Moonlight shone through a small, high window, leaching the color from all but his hair, which looked almost silver in it. "It's 3am. Where are you going?"

"Magnus'. I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"Look, Jace. This is really important. I have to go."

"What-"

"There's not a lot of time." She wasn't sure how exactly she knew that, but the urgency of the dream and the rune could mean nothing else.

"Clary, you-"

"Jace, do you trust me?"

Her question seemed to take him off guard. He blinked. "Of course I do."

"Than you have to let me go. I promise I'll explain everything I can when I get back, but I need to go. I'll be back in a few hours."

Jace looked like he badly wanted to protest, but he must have heard the urgency in her tone because he just sighed, still looking at her. He was learning. "Be safe," he said quietly.

"I will," she answered, "Be back soon." With that, she lifted the elevator gate, trying to be as quiet as possible and stepped in, closing it behind her, Jace watching her the whole time. She met his eyes quickly through the grate, trying to communicate as much as she could with her own, but then she was moving down and he was out of her sight. The next thing she knew, she was outside in the cool evening air, half-running toward the subway and thanking God that she'd grabbed the pants with her metro pass in the pocket.

An Opening rune got her into Magnus' apartment building, but she didn't dare enter the actual apartment with one. Even at a time like this, Magnus Bane was unpredictable. She didn't want to leave with any uncomfortable images in her mind that would never leave. She resorted to banging, rather forcefully, against the door with her fist.

It took a while, but eventually the door was opened by Magnus, who wore normal clothes, for him anyway, though they'd obviously been slept in; and looked like he could sleep for a month. "_What?_" he demanded, blinking into the light streaming in from the hall outside. "You had better have a _very_ good reason for this, Biscuit. I don't run an all hours facility, you know."

"I figured it out," Clary said, not bothering to respond to his comment.

"What?" These words apparently meant more to Magnus than they had to Jace though, because he perked up some.

"I figured it out," she repeated, "I can help you."

He blinked, "You mean…?"

She nodded. "I know what to do to make your plan work."

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Sorry it was short. The next chapter, whenever I get around to writing it, will be longer. Stay tuned!  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait. I had SATs and stuff... It was awful. I'm glad it's over. Your patience is really appreciated! :)**

* * *

Jace sat at the table in the kitchen, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor, a mug of coffee sitting untouched on the table before him. He'd been up since he'd caught Clary leaving in the predawn hours, and hadn't bothered sleeping since. He'd been up for long hours before. At this point, he didn't even notice the fatigue.

It bothered him, not knowing things. Especially when those things involved Clary. He'd thought, more than once, about following her after she'd left for Magnus'-with her luck, something was bound to happen. But he'd told her that he trusted her, and he did. And Clary was capable of handling herself. Jace would just have to get used to it. Though he still wasn't particularly jazzed with having been left behind.

He'd resigned himself after she'd left to pacing his bedroom, and after that, to lying on his back on his bed and staring up at the ceiling in the dark, anticipating sunrise and Clary's return.

She'd told him she would explain when she got back. Until then, all he could do was wait. And it was driving him a little crazy.

Alec appeared after a while, poured himself some coffee, and flung himself down in the chair across from Jace, looking haggard. He could try all he wanted to put on a brave face and attempt to hide how worried he was about everything, but he couldn't fool Jace. And probably not Isabelle either for that matter. Alec was terrified, though he tried to hide it. He always seemed to Jace lately to be repressing emotion, even more so than usual, not that Jace had any ground to stand on in that department.

"You look like hell," Jace said by way of greeting.

"Thanks a lot," Alec answered. He didn't seem inclined to say anything more. Jace just looked at him for a minute. He thought back to the conversation the two of them had had back in Edom, when Magnus had been kidnapped along with the other Downworld council members. Alec had asked how _he_ would be doing in his position, if Clary had been the one in trouble. Jace had answered then that he would have been in pieces. The same thing applied now, perhaps on an even larger scale.

Now, there was no _if._ Magnus was definitely going to go through with his plan, the plan that would almost definitely kill him. Alec was essentially counting down the days until he lost the love of his life. Jace couldn't even imagine how he would feel in his _parabatai's _shoes. He couldn't bear to think about it.

Jace opened his mouth to speak, but Alec, staring down at the mug in his hands, stopped him. "Don't." Jace quickly closed his mouth again. "I know you care," Alec said earnestly, "And you know I appreciate it, but I just… I can't. I don't want to talk about it."

The thought to change the subject to a sarcastic one crossed Jace's mind, but instead, he simply said, "Alright."

Alec met his eyes. "Thank you." Jace nodded and the two lapsed into silence once more.

Clary appeared shortly after this, back from her escapade to Magnus'. She had only to peek her head into the doorway and meet Jace's eyes before he was standing up from his seat and heading to follow her out, patting Alec's shoulder as he passed.

He followed her to her room and closed the door behind him. They stood a few feet from it, in the middle of the room, facing each other. He was relieved to see her back and safe. He'd been worried, despite himself.

"Hi," she said, speaking for the first time.

"You know," he began in response, "'Trusting you' is a nerve-wracking exercise."

"Sorry. You know how important this is."

"No. I don't even know what 'this' is, but if you say it is, I believe you. Which is the only reason I let you go."

"I know. Thanks for that."

"What's going on?"

"I saw a new rune…"

* * *

"I don't think we should tell Alec," Clary said, "It's already a touchy subject. I don't want him to hate me." _Again. _She'd been there before, almost a year earlier, and wasn't anxious for a repeat.

"I agree," Jace replied, "He definitely wouldn't like it. Honestly, we should probably just keep this between us. It worked out best that way last time."

Clary smirked at him, "What makes you so important, huh? Being in on everything?"

Jace grinned cockily back at her, "I happen to be quite special."

"Yeah," Clary snorted, before falling back into seriousness. "No, actually I'd rather word not get around either. I just wanted someone else to know. You were the obvious choice."

"Like I said. Special."

She eyed him, fighting a smirk. "Don't forget nosy and overprotective."

"I'm overprotective because I love you."

She did smile now, her chest filling with the familiar warmth, as it did every time he said those words. "I know. You're getting better."

"As for the nosy part…"

"You should probably quit while you're ahead," she told him, smiling, "And we should probably go. Alec probably thinks we're doing slightly more than just _talking _in here."

Jace's expression took on a devilish smile. He closed the short distance between them and set his hands on her hips, his golden eyes glittering. "Would you rather do something slightly more than _just_ _talking_?" he asked provocatively.

Blushing at his tone and fighting another smile, Clary trailed her eyes slowly over him before meeting his eyes once more. "Maybe," she allowed evenly, "But," she added, deftly removing herself from his light grasp. "Breakfast first. I'm starving."

Jace apparently agreed to those terms. Still grinning, he took her hand and led her out of the room.

* * *

The sun was setting as Clary and Isabelle walked the Manhattan sidewalks, patrolling. The sky ahead of them was illuminated in peaceful pinks and oranges as the last minutes of daylight came to a close, taking the residual heat of the day with them and replacing it with the cooler air of evening, for which, Isabelle was immensely grateful. It would be September soon, which hopefully would mean a break from the perpetually hot days. Already, the nights were getting cooler.

They were about halfway through their nightly watch. Frankly, Isabelle was sick of having to do them. The Shadowhunters had set up a rotation for the patrols, but with only five of them available regularly and the need for two rounds a day, they all were getting their fair share of demon slaying. Before all of this had started, Izzy had enjoyed hunting demons. It had been something of a sport for her, a rush of adrenaline and the satisfying knowledge of ridding the earth of one more evil. It had been fun. Now though, the necessity and frequency of the hunts just weighed her down. It was nothing more than a chore now; a dangerous chore that required way too much energy and time, and never ended. She was just so tired, in every sense of the word.

Between the constant patrols and the million other things going on, she was ready to have it all over with. She was tired of waiting, and fearing, and dreading. At this point, whatever was going to happen would happen and there was likely nothing any of them could do about it anyway. This needed to end. Soon.

"This sucks," Clary said, a statement Isabelle thought summed up her own thoughts pretty nicely.

"Tell me about it," she replied as they turned another corner.

Clary sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it. Embracing this life. I mean, it's cool most of the time, and I definitely would have wanted to know the truth about my mom and Valentine and everything, but if I had just gone back to being normal after all of that, things would have been a lot easier, I think. For everyone."

"I wouldn't say that. I mean, if you hadn't become a Shadowhunter, we would all most likely be dead. Jace definitely would, at least. Simon would have been a vampire either way, and he still would be. Valentine and Sebastian would have decimated the mundane population building an army to fight Downworlders, the Accords would have failed completely, and it would have been complete chaos everywhere. So yeah, I, for one, am very glad you did."

Clary looked at her cynically. "You make it sound like I singlehandedly stopped all of that from happening."

"Well, you kind of did. You played a huge role, at least. The only reason we were able to beat Valentine's army was because of your rune. Same with Sebastian's. I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Clary. You're kind of a big deal." Clary looked straight ahead again as they walked, shaking her head slightly, but Isabelle thought she could see the traces of a smile on her face too. "Besides," she continued, "If you hadn't become a Shadowhunter, you probably wouldn't be dating Jace right now. Even if he hadn't died."

The other girl paused a second before responding, "I guess _that's_ true, at least. I'm just sick of this."

"You and me both, Sister." Isabelle paused, smirking, "You know what I want to do? When this is all over?"

"Besides sleep, you mean?"

"I want to go on a date. Like a real date. With Simon. I don't think we've ever actually done that. Not with him as one of us, anyway. It is long overdue."

Clary grinned. "You should tell him that. Give him something to look forward to."

"I think I will. What about you? When was the last time you and Jace got out together?"

She thought for a second. "Does an impromptu picnic in Central Park count?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Then the day Simon's mom found out about us, I guess. What, probably two months ago?"

"See? We're all overdue for some fun." This was still new to Isabelle, this kind of talk. She'd been the only girl around for so long before Clary, and it had taken some getting used to. She liked having the redhead around now though, liked being able to talk about relationships and do her makeup for her, though she doubted Clary enjoyed the latter activity as much as she did. It was nice not having to deal with all the testosterone alone 24/7 anymore.

Clary answered, "I think we-"

But Isabelle would never know what she thought because in that moment, some invisible force knocked the two of them violently off their feet and sent them flying. The last thing Isabelle saw before everything went black was Clary hitting the ground hard beside her, her head taking the brunt of the hit, and her small frame crumpling.

* * *

Jace's heart was in his throat, suffocating him. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He'd never been this worried before, not for anyone. Clary and Isabelle had been due back over an hour ago, and neither of them was answering her cell phone. They'd been late enough for everyone to notice, and then late enough to warrant search parties being sent out. He'd known something was wrong immediately when Clary hadn't picked up. She always answered his calls while patrol. Or called back quickly afterward. He'd tried again, and then again. They'd all gone straight to voicemail. It was only when the tracking runes had given them inconclusive results that had Jace completely lost it.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

The Shadowhunters had split up to search; Jace and Alec went one way, Simon and Maryse the other, which left the Institute empty and unguarded, but it was the best option at the moment. The wards around it would have to suffice.

The _parabatai _ran at a quick jog down the sidewalks, moving as fast as they could while still being thorough in the dark. Jace held the Sensor as they ran, scanning for any trace of demonic frequencies nearby that would lead them to the girls. So far there had been nothing, which was maddeningly frustrating.

He couldn't stop thinking about her as he ran. Her eyes, her smile, that adorable look she gave him when he said something sarcastic, which he absolutely adored. He couldn't stop thinking the worst. He was worried about Isabelle too, but she had always been able to handle herself, even in rough situations. She hardly ever needed help. Clary, though she had blossomed into an immensely talented Shadowhunter, was still so new to this. And so much smaller. And, by the Angel, he _loved _her so much. And he was driving himself crazy.

The Sensor began to vibrate subtly in his hand. Jace slowed to a stop, pressing buttons to enhance the signal, and a second later, Alec joined him. "Got something?" he asked.

Jace nodded, scanning the area. "Definitely demonic. And it's gone now."

"Scout the area," Alec said, echoing Jace's thoughts. He nodded. Jace was exceptionally good at hiding his emotions, had been for a long time, but as they spilt up, Jace could fee his mask slipping and was glad Alec was the only one with him. Something bad had happened here. He just knew it.

It was a stretch of sidewalk in one of the sketchier parts of Manhattan, surrounded by abandoned buildings and vacant lots, probably all that remained of them in New York, filled with weeds and city garbage. Jace scoured the uneven pavement of the surrounding roads, looking for any signs of what could have happened, his witchlight the only decent source of illumination. The Sensor was still picking up the frequency.

"Jace," Alec called from the other side of the street. His tone was urgent, and not at all reassuring, and as Jace neared where his _parabatai_ had crouched down and was shuffling in his witchlight's eerie glow, he figured out why. Before Alec, splayed out on the ground like a ragdoll, was Isabelle. Jace broke into a sprint and was at their sides in seconds. It was obvious Clary wasn't with her. His heart stuttered in dread as he crouched down beside Alec, who had propped his sister's long, crumpled frame up on his lap and was tending to her, to help.

After a few minutes and a couple of _iratzes,_ Isabelle stirred, and a moment later, opened her eyes. She had two black eyes and a sliced lip, as well as a decently sized cut on the back of her head. "Clary," she slurred, looking around frantically, _"Clary."_

"Shhh," Alec comforted her, "Izzy, it's okay. What happened?"

"Where's Clary?" Jace demanded desperately, "Izzy-"

"She's gone," she answered, "I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, Jace. I'm so-" She was crying.

"It's not your fault, Izzy," Alec told her, helping her to sit up. Jace's head was spinning. He looked away, and his eyes landed on a familiar shape on the ground a few feet from them. He walked toward it-he knew if he stayed where he was, he was bound to lash out-and fished it off the cracked asphalt.

It was a cell phone, and on the ground around where it laid, blood, and no small amount of it. The screen was badly shattered, but it was unmistakably Clary's. The screen lit behind the shattered glass and he could just make out the notifications on the home screen. _6 Missed Calls: Jace. _For a few minutes, he could only stare, thinking the absolute worst.

Numbly, he walked back to where Alec was just standing up, pulling his own cell phone from his pocket and unlocking it. Isabelle still sat on the ground, knees pulled into her chest, looking miserable and still slightly dazed. He stopped to stand near Alec, who now had his phone to his ear, probably calling the others. He glanced down at Clary's shattered phone still in Jace's hand and placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder as whoever he had called answered and he began explaining what had happened, relaying their location, and calling off the search. Jace stopped listening quickly.

"I'm so sorry, Jace," Isabelle said softly. He didn't answer. If either of them said anything further, he didn't know or care. Their words were lost to him. He felt like the whole world had just come out from under him. And it had. She was his whole world.

And she was gone. Clary was gone. Missing. Kidnapped. Possibly already dead.

Alec finished his phone call and helped his sister to her feet, slung her arm over his shoulders, supporting most of her weight, and proceeded to help her back toward the Institute. Jace followed behind in a daze, his thoughts far away in a dark, awful place, worry and fear almost overtaking him as he went. The girl he loved was in danger, injured, and alone with the malevolent thing that had taken her. And he was far from okay. He was in pieces.

* * *

**Bet you weren't expecting that, were you?**


	19. Chapter 19

Clary woke up slowly, out of a daze of swirling images and bright colors, none of which had made any sense to her unconscious mind. It seemed like an eternity before she could open her eyes, and when she did, she immediately regretted it.

The room, wherever it was, was dark, but it still sent a wave of intense pain shooting through her skull. She had been lying haphazardly in the corner, against the brick wall, as if flung there. She sat up now, slowly, blinking in the dark and fighting vertigo. She could feel thick, half-dried liquid covering the side of her face that had been on the floor, and judging from the pain in her head, she was almost positive it was her own blood. She could just make out the outline of the puddle on the floor, with the void in the middle, where her head had previously been.

She scooted back to lean against the wall behind her, mustering all her energy just to stay awake. Eyes adjusted to the dim light, she scanned the small room, making out small details leached of color in the dark. It was a tiny room, one that was probably preceded by a larger one. The wall she sat against was brick, the floor, bare concrete, and the other walls, plain, with a single, large door directly across from the one she sat against. A metal folding chair lay on its side in the center of the space. That was it. It looked like one of the interrogation rooms from the cop shows Clary had sometimes watched with Luke. Those ones probably didn't reek quite so much of mildew and rot though. Nothing good could go on in a room like this.

She was still wearing her gear. Slowly, the events from the patrol with Isabelle came back to her. What she knew anyway. One second, the coast had been clear and she and Isabelle had been immersed in conversation; and then, nothing but strange dreams and this dark room. She had no idea where she was or how long she'd been here. Where was Izzy? Something bad had obviously happened.

Wincing, she patted the pockets of her gear. Her weapons and _stele _were gone and so was her cell phone. Her Sensor was still there, but she doubted it would really be of much use to her. It was unlikely she'd be able to get away with stuffing one down a demon's throat twice. It had been unlikely enough the first time.

Assuming it was a demon that had brought her here at all. Or at least someone involved with them. What else could it have been?

After a minute, she took a deep breath and forced herself to stand, ignoring the dizziness as best as she could. Slowly, on unsteady legs, she crossed the small room to the door and was unsurprised to find it locked tight. It was solid. Even if she hadn't been injured and probably dehydrated, she wouldn't have been able to break it down. She turned back toward her spot in the corner, shedding her gear jacket and wadding it up to make something of a pillow for her to lay on atop the hard, dirty floor.

Clary knew she should have been terrified, caged in and most likely waiting for her death. She should have been crying or screaming, or trying to claw her way out. Maybe she was in shock, but she really didn't feel much of anything at all. Emotionally numb. The only real thing she felt aside from pain was fatigue. Maybe that should have been concerning, given her head wound, but she'd already slept for some time, long enough for her captor to take her and lock her in here. And it wasn't like she had anything better to do than sleep in this dark, muggy room.

Shifting to lie on her back, head tilted to keep the wound from touching the fabric of her jacket, she stared into the darkness, her eyes beginning to droop almost immediately.

It could have been minutes or hours later, but a noise near the door woke her up, the sound of a turning lock. She turned toward it, still slightly groggy, and watched as it began to swing open.

* * *

_To love is to destroy. _Jace couldn't remember the last time he'd thought about Valentine's twisted words. The man had been evil and conniving, a liar in every aspect and he couldn't have been more wrong in his evaluation of love. And yet, right now, Jace wondered if maybe it wasn't the tiniest bit true as the five words repeated themselves over and over again in his mind. Because he loved Clary with everything in him, and right now, it _was_ destroying him.

He was in the library with the rest of the Institute's inhabitants and Clary's parents. It had been the unannounced gathering place since the Shadowhunters had returned from finding Isabelle injured and Clary missing, nearly an hour earlier. Jocelyn and Luke had shown up shortly after, having been notified by Maryse about what had happened.

The healing runes had worked almost completely on Isabelle's ailments by the time they'd arrived back; and now, other than some residual bruising, physically, she looked fine. Emotionally, of course, she was another story. And she wasn't alone.

"And you're sure you have no idea what it was that attacked you?" Alec asked her for probably the forth time.

Isabelle leveled him with an exasperated look. "No, Alec! By the Angel, don't you think if I did, I would tell you? I don't know! It wasn't just any random demon! I would have seen it coming! I'm not that stupid, and neither is-" Her voice broke and she gave in to more tears, which had been falling pretty much non-stop since she'd begun relaying what she remembered. Which wasn't much.

The rest of them had sat and listened, Alec and Maryse trying to fit together what had happened based on Isabelle's account and the evidence they had gathered. The rest of them though had pretty much sat in silence. Clary's mother had cried while Luke, beside her, hadn't looked far from doing so himself.

Jace had forced himself into something of a catatonic state and remained there, sitting and doing nothing else. He knew if he tried to speak, he would either end up lashing out or breaking down, neither of which he wanted to do. As it was, his heavy heart had beat painfully when Isabelle spoke of how Clary had hit the ground after the whatever-it-was had blown them both off their feet. He'd sat forward and placed his head in his hands, hyperaware of the eyes on him. He remained in that position now.

"I'm sorry, Izzy," Alec responded, "I just want to know what happened."

"Don't we all." It was Luke who spoke now, his voice pained.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"It's not your fault," Simon said. He had sat by her side throughout the meeting and had, for once, said very little. He'd looked close to tears himself for a while. Jace wanted to be angry about how much he cared, as if the other Shadowhunter's pain could possibly be anything close to his own, but he knew he couldn't. It was hard not to love Clary, and Simon had known her for most of his life. He had every right to be distraught about this. Isabelle said nothing in response to his words.

Maryse went on to speak then, but Jace was through listening. It was obvious there was nothing more he was going to learn, and the longer he sat here, the more certain he became that he would eventually explode. Wordlessly, he got to his feet, cutting Maryse off mid-sentence, and walked from the room, ignoring his adoptive mother calling after him.

He wound up in the training room and went right for the heavy bag hanging on one side from the rafters, shedding his gear jacket and weapons belt, and leaving them on the floor as he went. Without bothering with sports tape or gloves, he began beating it, dealing with his pain the only way he knew how; letting it out with every punch he threw. It was almost a relief when his knuckles quickly began bleeding, as if somehow having physical pain evened out the internal agony he was in.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, but he was out of breath and his eyes were burning with unshed tears when a voice sounded behind him. "Don't do this to yourself." The voice was gentle, one he recognized quickly, but didn't expect in this setting.

He stopped punching and caught the bag as it swung back toward him, resting his forehead against it, eyes closed as he breathed quickly. "Do what?"

"You know what." Footsteps. Reluctantly, Jace turned toward the sound of them and met Jocelyn's eyes, still red-rimmed from crying, as she came to stand nearer to him. "Holding everything in. Lashing out. Hurting yourself."

"I'm not hurting myself," he said quickly. Even if he was getting blood on the floor…

"I know you're hurting, Jace. I know you're scared and worried. You aren't fooling anybody. And you're not alone in feeling that way. She's my daughter, for goodness sake. How do you think I feel?"

Jace was quiet for a few seconds. Had it been anyone else calling him out like that, he surely would have had an angry retort ready and waiting, but he couldn't argue with Jocelyn, much like he couldn't argue with Clary. She was her mother's daughter. And Jocelyn wasn't wrong.

"You love her," she supplied gently. It wasn't a question.

Jace didn't know what it was, except maybe that Clary just resembled her mother so much. He found himself meeting her eyes and answering sincerely, "Very much."

"I know. And I know you would do anything in your power to save her if you could."

"I will find her. I will go to the ends of the earth if I have to."

Jocelyn smiled kindly, though it didn't meet her eyes. "You're a lot like your father."

That brought Jace up short. "You knew my father?" He'd never thought about it before, but it was possible. Clary's mother wasn't that much younger then his father would have been.

"Not well, but yes, I did. He was Luke's brother-in-law for a while, as well as Valentine's right hand man after Luke, though by that point, I'd really had little interaction with the Circle and its members. He was a good man, Jace. Fanatical, but good. And so are you."

Jace just looked at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. The conversation had taken an unexpected route. Jocelyn continued before he could respond.

"I know how much you love my daughter-" She took a steadying breath before continuing, "I know this is incredibly hard. And I know you would be out right now 'going to the ends of the earth' to find her, if only you knew where to start. Believe me, I would go with you."

Rather than respond to that, Jace found himself asking, "When exactly did you decide you liked me?"

"I don't know. I have for a while though. I see how happy you make Clary, how much she loves you and you her, and I know that she could do much worse."

Hearing her name was like being stabbed in the heart. "I just-" His voice broke embarrassingly and suddenly, he was fighting tears. He would not cry here. He wouldn't. He studied the floor at his feet.

Jocelyn stepped closer still. "I know," she said softly and the next thing he knew, she was hugging him. He awkwardly returned it and found himself oddly comforted. He was still far from okay, but Jocelyn was the only other person who even remotely shared the same pain over Clary as he did and somehow that made it minutely better.

* * *

The shape that entered Clary's prison, silhouetted in the light shining in from behind him, looked vaguely humanoid. She squinted into the blinding brightness, long-used to the darkness that had enveloped her for so long, as the creature stepped inside. As her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out more details of him, and wished she couldn't. He had dark skin and was sickly thin, with a bloated stomach, like the African victims of starvation she'd seen in a textbook once at St. Xavier's. Its hands were clawed and his head, bald and elongated.

"Well, well, well. Look who finally woke up." His voice was something out of a nightmare, deep and ice cold. It sent shivers down Clary's spine. "I was afraid I would have to beat you awake myself. I didn't want to have to get blood on my shoes."

"Who are you? Why am I here?" Clary tried to keep her voice steady, unafraid, but she was starting to feel the fear that had eluded her before.

"You, little Shadowhunter, are here because I brought you here. And I brought you here because I was instructed to do so. You should feel honored, really. It's been quite a long time since I've had the pleasure of dealing with one of your kind, and never in this part of your pathetic realm. Far too long, really, as I only recently recovered from what they did to me." He'd begun walking forward as he spoke, stopping to right the folding chair in the center of the room and, and then, had continued from there toward Clary, his voice growing angrier as he talked. He stopped and stood looming over her, glaring down, "Do you _know _what it is like, Clarissa, to be trapped in the Void between worlds for a century and a half, broken and starving?" Clary said nothing, staring at the demon and trying to ignore the ever-quickening pace of her heart. "You don't, of course. You're nothing but a mortal weakling. However, I am back now. I will get my revenge. And I will start with you."

Before Clary was even aware of what was happening, she cried out as she was snatched up by the demon and dragged, by both the collar of her shirt and her hair, across the small room, hauled up into the folding chair, and bound to it.

"And as for _who _I am, my name is Yanluo. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20

Jace jerked himself out of the dream, so violently; he fell out of his bed and landed on the floor with a thud. He sat up, but stayed there for a minute, breathing hard and trying to rid his mind of the images. The blood and horror. Clary, her body broken and lifeless, green eyes staring at him with no life left in them. Everything he'd ever loved, simply gone.

The pain the sight brought him, even if it had just been a dream, was almost unbearable. Seeing her like that, gone, murdered by the evil that had taken her, it made him feel so helpless, useless, destroyed. What if he never did see her again? Never again got to hold her, or see her smile, or hear her laugh?

He got to his feet and crossed his room, opening the window and breathing in the fresh air, trying to clear his head of those thoughts. They wouldn't get him anywhere. If he was going to find Clary, and he was, he couldn't allow himself to be reduced to that.

He hadn't intended to fall asleep the night before. Or really, that morning. He hadn't even felt very tired, despite having gone over twenty-four hours without rest. He didn't dare try. He knew the nightmares would come. And they had.

The sky was starting to lighten outside. The sun would rise soon. Jace took a deep, steadying breath and turned from the window. It was time to face the day, and hopefully, by the end of it, he would have Clary back with him.

He showered and dressed before leaving his room. He hadn't decided where he wanted to go yet when voices in the library as he walked by caught his attention.

Maryse was standing to the side of Hodge's old desk, speaking to a Hologram of Jia Penhallow. Maryse looked to have been woken up, wearing a robe overtop red pajamas and slippers, her hair tied back. Jia was wearing Consul robes. Neither looked happy.

"…few minutes ago," Jia was saying, "I'm dispatching as many fighters as are willing to go. We'll portal over in no less than half an hour if everything goes as planned."

Maryse nodded. "Thank you, Jia. We'll see you then." The Consul nodded and the hologram disappeared.

Maryse noticed Jace standing there then, arms crossed. He wasn't about to apologize for eavesdropping, and Maryse didn't seem inclined to make him. "Jace," she said, "Good, you're up."

"It's starting, isn't it?" he asked, voice void of emotion.

She nodded. "The wards picked up a huge demonic presence entering this realm less than half an hour ago. There's likely only one thing that could mean."

"An army," Jace supplied. Magnus had been right in assuming that was how it would work.

She nodded again. "It doesn't seem to be a particularly organized one, being as it isn't here yet, which is good for us, but if it is who we think it is, it's only a matter of time. The Consul is sending as much help as she can. In the meantime, we need to prepare. Go wake the others and tell them. I'm going to call Alec. He's with Magnus." Jace nodded and turned to go, satisfied that justice would be served today. At least he wouldn't be sitting around anymore. He had no doubt that Asmodeus was the reason Clary was missing, and he intended to make him, and every other demon involved, pay heavily for it.

* * *

Isabelle was beside herself. Everyone kept telling her that what had happened to Clary wasn't her fault, and maybe they were right, but if that was true, why did she feel so guilty? She hadn't been able to sleep. She hadn't been able to do much of anything, really. She felt beyond awful. She knew, logically, that there wasn't anything she could have done, but she felt like there should have been.

Simon didn't help. He was kind and comforting as always, but he had looked absolutely lost since they'd come back without his best friend. He didn't blame her like she blamed herself, but seeing him like that broke her heart even more.

She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom, and had been for a while, when Jace came in to tell her what was going on. It was the first time she'd heard him speak since he and Alec had found her in the street the night before, and while Simon looked lost, Jace looked like a ghost, like his whole world had shattered and he was now stuck trying to rebuild it after the wind had blown all the pieces away.

"Jace," she said when he finished explaining.

"Just get ready, Izzy," he'd said, letting her get no further before walking back out the door and leaving her alone again.

* * *

Simon had just fallen into a fitful sleep, exhaustion getting the better of him after he'd lain awake all night, when a voice had woken him up again. "Get up, Newbie. We have demons to fight."

Simon sighed heavily before opening his tired eyes, expecting the other Shadowhunter's words to carry the same meaning they had every other time he'd been woken up to fight demons for the past month, something he was quite the opposite of motivated to do right now.

He still couldn't believe it was real. Clary couldn't be gone. She'd always been so strong, so capable of taking care of herself. He'd always been the one that needed saving. But she was gone; kidnapped, and they had no idea where she was or who had taken her. They were temporarily out of moves. He didn't know how to deal with it.

When Jace explained what was going on, Simon caught a bit of a second wind. They'd been waiting for something to happen with Asmodeus for over two months now, and it finally was. When they were all at their weakest, most exhausted, and most emotionally distraught states. Of course. Simon had to hand it to him; the Greater Demon knew how to play these things. Simon just hoped the Nephilim did too.

* * *

Jace passed Alec as he made his way from the weapons room-Alec was on his way there now. Jace nodded half-heartedly in greeting, and he nodded back, looking pale and like he'd rather be doing anything but what they were. Jace knew why. This was it. Alec was out of time. He would most likely be losing Magnus today, and he clearly knew it. Jace felt slightly bad that he wasn't in on Clary's addition to the plan; that would at least give him some semblance of hope, but Magnus didn't want him to know. He didn't want him to get hurt even more, which, Jace supposed, was understandable. And Clary had been right; the fewer people that knew, the better.

He clasped his _parabatai's_ fist in his own, trying to look as encouraging as possible. He knew it probably wasn't convincing. At all. Jace was just as miserable, and Alec was the only one who knew what he was going through right now. And based on the look in his blue eyes, Alec was thinking the same thing about him.

"See you down there," he said as they let go. Jace nodded and continued walking.

Maryse was again in the library when he arrived, though she wore fighting gear now. Maguns was with her, wearing jeans and a purple T-shirt, as if it was just another ordinary day and he wasn't about to participate in a war that could potentially end all of their lives. Frankly, it wasn't surprising; he was Magnus after all.

The warlock met Jace's eyes, his question obvious. Jace nodded infinitesimally. It was up to him now to make sure Clary's plan succeeded. If Jace could do nothing else, he owed her that much.

"The Clave is going to meet us in Central Park," Maryse said informatively, noticing his entrance.

Jace stared at her. "Central Park," he repeated dully, "You mean the one that is filled with mundanes every day? That's a great idea. What did you plan to do, exactly? Just go through with this war with them there and simply hope the collateral damage is kept to a minimum?"

"Jace, it's the biggest open area around, and we don't have much time. The demons are going to come to us, and they certainly can't come _here_. We'll have to put up temporary wards to keep the mundanes out and hope they last."

"_Hope _they last? What do you intend to do if they don't?"

"They'll be fine. It's our only option. Now we need to leave in ten minutes. Is everyone ready?"

Jace shrugged, spreading his arms dramatically. "Logistics is your job. I'm just here to kill things."

Maryse sighed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes, and stormed past him, out of the library, leaving Jace alone with Magnus, who managed to look amused.

"You are the _epitome _of an insufferable teenager. You know that, right?" the warlock asked after she had gone.

"It adds to my charm," Jace said blandly.

Magnus snorted, and then grew serious. After a few seconds, he said, "I am sorry, Jace, but she's strong. She'll be okay. We will find her."

Jace raised an eyebrow, ignoring the pan that shot through his chest at the thought of her. "Is that assuming you _don't _die today? That we all don't?"

Magnus visibly flinched, and, normally, Jace probably would have felt bad, but at this point, he had walls built so high up, he didn't know if they _could _come down again. But if he wanted to survive today, they were necessary. He couldn't be breaking down in the middle of a war. "Ever the optimist," the warlock muttered, and louder, said, "Fine. If you wish to be that way, I'll leave you to wallow in misery by yourself. I'd like my potential last day on earth to be spent with more _hospitable_ company." With that, he also left the room, and Jace was alone.

The first members of the Clave had already come through the portal, which stood open in the center of Central Park, by the time they got there. Jace guessed the wards had also been put up, judging from the vast emptiness of the place. He'd never seen it so unoccupied, but it did make him feel slightly better about all of this. It was bad enough Shadowhunters could be hurt and maybe even killed today. Innocent humans didn't need to be in danger too.

Fiddling idly with a Seraph blade to keep his hands occupied, he looked around at his family, friends, and fellow Shadowhunters. Simon and Isabelle stood hand in hand, not speaking. They both looked awful-upset and sleep-deprived, but Jace knew he didn't look any better. Maryse stood by the Portal, greeting the Clave members as they came through.

Alec and Magnus stood off to the side of everyone, facing each other, both hands entwined with the other's, speaking, though their words were lost in the space separating them. Jace didn't need to hear though to know they were saying goodbye. Magnus looked to be saying _I love you. _Alec looked like he was barely holding it together. Looking away from the scene he knew he had no right to be privy to, Jace hoped Alec would get it together enough to fight. He didn't want to lose his _parabatai_. He'd already lost Clary.

Minutes later, the portal closed and the Clave members-way too small a group considering how many lived in Alicante-readied themselves to fight. Jocelyn and Luke had shown up, and with them, Maia and the werewolf pack, which made their assembly slightly better fit to face what was coming to them. Even so, there was no telling exactly what awaited them all today. Maybe they would all make it out alive; maybe none of them would. Either way, this ended today.

* * *

Clary couldn't remember ever being in pain like this. And she prayed to never have to again.

Yanluo had wasted no time with pleasantries. He'd gotten right to the point. "We're going to have some fun," he'd said, his smile menacing in the dim light, stretching across his sickly-looking face, "Or, at least, I am. Remember how I mentioned earlier that you are my first victim in some time? Well, last time, I was interrupted, right when I was immensely enjoying myself too. It was because of those pesky Shadowhunters, _your_ people, that I couldn't finish last time. However, I have graciously been given a chance to right this wrong done to me. I am going to finish with you what I started on him, and this time, I will not fail."

"Who's 'him?'" Clary had asked, restrained in the metal chair as the greater demon towered over her. She'd read about Yanluo. She briefly remembered that something had happened involving him a long time ago and that he had supposedly been destroyed. Not that it helped much now. That wasn't the only thing she knew about him though, and the other information was what had set her skin crawling and heart racing in fear before anything had even happened. Yanluo was known for torturing his victims before he killed them.

And he hadn't disappointed. "No one you need concern yourself with. He's surely been dead for _quite _some time. Humans are so fragile, so easy to break. A twelve year old, even if he was a Shadowhunter, is no match for me." A second later, he had produced some kind of vile, which held some kind of dark liquid, hard to make out in the darkness. "This," he'd explained, "is called _yin fen._ It was very popular back in the day, though is much harder to find now. Lucky for you though, I have my connections." His grin had broadened, "Or, maybe, not so lucky." And then, he'd injected it into her arm, so fast; Clary hadn't had time to even process what was happening, much less try to move.

She knew the second the stuff, whatever it was, was in her, because it set her veins on fire, her heart beating way too quickly, carrying the blaze throughout her entire body until she saw red, even in the dark, and she was sure there should have been flames coming off her body. She'd screamed unwillingly, unable to keep quiet, struggling, with all her might, to break free from her restraints, not even really noticing when they cut deep into her wrists. Yanluo had laughed the whole time.

It could have been minutes or hours later, but just when she thought she might be starting to get used to the excruciating pain, or at least that it couldn't get any worse, the demon stepped forward again, another, what she know knew to be a needle, in his hand, and shot it, too, into her. It brought with it a whole new level of agony, and after that, whether from the poison or the pain, Clary didn't know, came hallucinations, on a new scale of awful than anything she'd ever known before.

After that, she'd lost all concept of time and space, floating endlessly in a sea of agony and nightmares, wave after wave of pain flooding through her and no end in sight.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hi! So this chapter is long enough to be 2 separate ones, but I couldn't really make it work as 2 so you'll have to deal with one long one. It also seems slightly scatterbrained to me, but since its a lot of fighting, something I'm not particularly good at writing, I did the best I could. Hopefully you like it. It's also up pretty early, so you're welcome. :)**

* * *

The army descended on them like a summer storm. Literally, because the sky grew incredibly dark, every trace of the sun blotted out by sudden dark, malevolent clouds. One minute, the coast was completely clear as the Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike stood armed and ready, and the next, they were staring down a huge, malicious group of demons, covering the ground and blotting out the sun further as the hordes crawled, ran, and flew toward its enemies. For a single second, everything was completely quiet, and then the two sides collided and Simon got the distinct sense of déjà vu as he sidestepped the tentacle of a Raum demon and began to fight as everything descended into chaos.

He was able to take out the demons fairly quickly and efficiently, surprised himself at how easy it actually was. Even with the many weapons he carried and the battle runes burned into his skin, he hadn't been overly confident going into this war. He was far less experienced than the rest of their group, and yet he seemed to be handling himself fairly well, if he did say so himself. He remembered, dispatching a Ravener, Magnus having mentioned that the demons that would come would likely be weak and difficult to control, making it easier for Team Good. This knowledge wounded Simon's ego slightly, but still, he wasn't dead yet; all his time spent training and studying over the past few months definitely made a difference.

He spotted Izzy for a moment, across the field, looking like an angry angel, her golden whip an extension of her arm. She took out demons left and right. The rest of the New York Institute's members were scattered amongst the Clave members, werewolves, and demons; all engaged in their own fighting, moving swiftly from one evil to the next without batting an eyelash, like the seasoned veterans they all were.

Simon turned from sending another demon back to its own realm just in time to dodge the pincer of a Shax demon, aimed for his head. He dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding landing in a puddle of extraterrestrial goo, as the demon came to loom over him. He fumbled with one of the Seraph blades in his belt, heart racing with surprise and fear. A few feet away, a familiar-looking wolf was locked in battle with another evil. He looked like he wanted to help, but couldn't find an opening to dispatch his own enemy. Finally, Simon managed to unsnag the weapon from his belt, but before he could use it, the Shax demon fell, folding in on itself, gone. A young, fair Shadowhunter, probably not much older than he was, stood where it formerly had, his own blade dripping ichor. "Thanks," Simon said gratefully, getting to his feet.

"My pleasure," was all the other guy had time to say before they were both forced to resume fighting again. They seemed to be holding their own for now, but the assembled Shadowhunters, even with the werewolves, didn't make for a very large group compared to the hordes of enemies that seemed to never stop coming. Simon just hoped their luck would hold long enough for them to reach the end.

* * *

Jace fought like a whirlwind, and he knew it. His anger and fear fueled him like gas to a fire, and his enemies were suffering the full extent of his wrath. He knew it probably close to doubled his normal efficiency rate, especially with how weak and ill equipped the army was, despite its size. He'd known that greater demons, Asmodeus especially, were prideful, but this was borderline foolish, especially for a general of Hell's army. This enemy's strength was in numbers, and that was really all it was.

Still, the starving demons put up enough of a fight to warrant Jace's anger, even without the cause they fought for, and it was almost enough of a distraction to keep him him from his angst over Clary. He cut through another two demons, too fast for either of them to stand a chance at fighting back, not even bothering to distinguish which kind they were. They were all otherworldly, and, if he had any say, they would all die. Breed didn't matter much beyond that. It was times like this when he was immensely grateful for the extra angel blood that flowed through his veins and the extra power he possessed because of it, even if it had caused him enough grief to last more than a lifetime.

He couldn't tell how much leeway the Shadowhunters and Maia's pack were making against the army, but they weren't being overrun, not yet anyway, and that was always a good thing.

Jace's heart hammered with adrenaline and the excitement of the fight. He felt the most alive he'd felt in a while, and also the most hopeful. He would get through this battle, even if he had to do all the fighting himself. He would find Asmodeus, and he would make sure he wouldn't be bothering anyone else for a very, _very _long time. He would find out where Clary was, and, no matter what he needed to do or how he had to do it, he would go there and get her. And he would not hesitate to kill anyone who had so much as laid a finger on her in the process.

His newfound determination only added to his strength and he pushed on, making quite a dent in the demonic army immediately surrounding him. He was a force to be reckoned with, and even the Behemoth demon that dared cross him stood absolutely no chance with his current mindset. He didn't even feel the effects of fatigue, despite his lack of sleep and how long he'd been fighting like this. The stamina runes on his arms hadn't even begun stinging yet. He simply didn't need them.

At some point, Jace caught sight of Magnus, of all people, in the midst of the fighting. He stayed on the outskirts of Central Park, clearly uncomfortable fighting without his magic, though he looked to be doing exceptionally well with a sword for someone who normally wouldn't need to use one. Though, Jace thought fleetingly, taking out yet another demon, an Oni this time, someone who had been around as long as Magnus had surely would have, at some point, learned to fight, whether it was necessary to or not. The warlock caught Jace's eyes in between one demon and the next. It was quick, but Jace got the message. Magnus knew what he needed to do. He was waiting for Jace's cue.

And Jace's cue would come the second Asmodeus showed his cowardly face, which, from the looks of things, may not have been very far from then. It had taken a while to become evident, there were just so _many _in the opposing army, but the Shadowhunters _were_ making progress. And while there were a lot more to go, the amount of ichor and demon goo thickly layering the once green grass of Central Park was evidence enough of just how far they'd come in the time they'd been fighting.

* * *

Isabelle was beginning to feel the effects of all the fighting, and she knew she wasn't alone; she could tell. All around her, weapons strikes were growing slower, fighting stances growing were more and more sloppy, and the amount of casualties occurring seemed to be going up. What had begun as minor injuries: shallow gashes, scrapes, minor burns, was turning into more prevalent injuries: deeper wounds, more noteworthy burns, and semi-serious impalements. It wasn't that Asmodeus' army was a particularly daunting one; not in strength or ability anyway, nor in organization-honestly, it seemed Asmodeus could have planned this all much better than he had, though rage, Izzy knew, was not great in eliciting patience or thoroughness. It was, however, massive in size, which more than made up for the lack of a challenge presented by the individual enemies. The Shadowhunters couldn't fight forever. Eventually they would grow tired; they already were. The battle had been raging for a while now.

The arm that held her whip had begun throbbing as she lashed out with it again and again on her enemies. This didn't stop her-she'd learned long ago to fight through the pain, however, her exhaustion, after a while, slowed her down against her will.

Team Good's members were dropping, but the demons were still dropping faster. They were definitely making progress against them, which gave Isabelle the determination to keep going. This confrontation was long awaited, and she would fight until the end or go down trying.

An Elipid demon got in a lucky shot a second later, its disgusting, insectile body colliding with hers so hard, she flew back a few feet, landing hard on her back. The wind was knocked out of her, but she managed to drive a runed blade into the back of its neck before it could do permanent damage. It folded in on itself, still half on top of her, leaving the lower half of her body stinging badly, covered in ichor and venom. She stayed on the ground for an extra second, breathing hard. Her arm was on fire-the thing had managed to bite her before she'd killed it. That wasn't good. She fumbled for her _stele_ in her pocket, but her injured arm was already growing numb and heavy and she wasn't getting very far.

"Izzy!" The familiar, albeit panicked, voice of her brother carried over the sounds of battle and she looked up in time to see a small group if Imp demons heading right for her. Also not good. She rolled out of the way and the stupid things charged past her, but turned around quickly and came at her again. She couldn't move her arm at all now, and the pain had spread up to her collarbone. Heart beating fast, she made a desperate grab for a kindjal that lay discarded on the ground beside her and caught the demon in the lead in the upper leg, slowing it down but coming nowhere close to killing it. The rest were practically on her.

And then they weren't. Four arrows flew through the air, one after the other, so quickly, they were practically simultaneous. Each hit their mark precisely and the group of Imps went down. Alec was beside her then, kneeling down and cutting away the thick fabric of her gear jacket from her injured arm with a knife before setting to work with his _stele._ He quickly drew a couple of _iratzes_, which Izzy felt the effects of immediately, and then was up and killing another demon that had set its sights on them. He'd come such a long way over the course of the past year. When it was dead, he turned and helped her up. "You okay?" he asked. She tested out her arm. It seemed almost fine again, and she could feel the burns from the poison healing as well, though her clothes still smoked slightly.

"Yeah, thanks," she said.

Alec took a deep breath, looking relieved, and then, glancing over her shoulder, said, "Heads up." And then, just like that, they were both up and fighting again, this time side by side. The going was getting tough, but no one was giving up just yet. They were Shadowhunters after all, that just wasn't how they operated.

* * *

Alec wasn't sure at first exactly what had changed. One second, everything was the same as it had been since the fighting had begun, and then the next, the demeanor of the demon army changed. Suddenly, they seemed more disciplined, like they had a purpose in their attack. That could only mean one thing. Magnus had been right in how it would play out. Asmodeus, the coward, had finally shown up.

He decapitated his current opponent and whirled, doing a speedy cursory scan of the area. It didn't take him long to determine where to go. He could literally feel the evil power emanating from the north side of the park. It made his skin prickle. He was running then, full speed, through the mass of fighting, cutting down every enemy in his way. This was personal, after what had happened to Magnus. Asmodeus was going to die today, and Alec was going to be there to see it.

He cut his way through the crowds surprisingly quickly, leaving a trail of destruction for the demons in his wake. He broke through another bunch of enemies and could see him then, tall and evil looking, skin stretched taught over the bones of his face, wearing the same white suit he had the first time they'd met him. As if he could sense Alec's thoughts, Asmodeus looked right at him as he drew near and smiled villainously, his gold-green eyes, so much like Magnus', gleaming with a sick amusement.

Jace must have had the same idea-of course, because he broke through the melee a second later and stopped next to Alec. He could almost feel the rage rolling off his _parabatai_. He'd seen Jace angry before, but never like this. He looked beyond murderous. Alec could relate.

The Greater Demon's smile grew wider. He gave the slightest flick of the wrist, and just like that, the fighting around them came to an immediate stop as the demons paused in their attacks. Several more went down in that second. Silence reigned. "How nice of you to join me," Asmodeus said, his kindness mocking.

"Where is she?" Jace demanded furiously. "What the _hell _did you do with her?"

The demon remained as he was, looking amiably amused. "I don't see why that matters at this point. I wouldn't doubt that she is dead by now, or surely very close to it. There is nothing you can do for her."

"I think I'll be the one to determine that," he spat, "_Where is she?"_

"You Shadowhunters think you are the only ones who can play the allies game. And it is a weak card to play, I'll admit, however in this case it has been quite… beneficial to my cause."

"So that's it then. A Greater Demon, some temporary ally of yours, that's who has Clary." Jace wasn't asking a question. He clearly knew Asmodeus wasn't going to give him anything more than that.

"I don't know that 'ally' is the word I'd use. He was weak, recently re-formed. Creatures are always the easiest to control when they're vulnerable and bent on revenge. All I did was give him a chance to finish what he had started the first time. It was too easy, really. But that doesn't matter now. I am a prince of Hell, and my demands are always met. I inflict pain and I enjoy it greatly. I relish the loss my victims suffer." By this point, some of the Shadowhunters and werewolves had begun moving closer, curiosity getting the better of them. Alec was grateful to notice Magnus was still far away. Asmodeus continued, "And yet you, all of you, have found a way around my demands. I'm sure you think you're clever, having come up with a loophole, weak as it was. And yet, I know for a fact you've suffered a great deal since that mistake as well. My question to you: was it really worth it?" He spread his long arms, "Was all of this, your impending deaths, really worth one useless little mundane?"

"Maybe it wasn't about the mundane at all. Maybe it was about proving that we couldn't be controlled by a slimy demon with a ego problem who has nothing left to lord over except some sand and a few dying minor demons. Maybe you're not as great as you think you are." Jace's voice was deadly calm and serious. Had he been anyone else, Alec would have thought him foolish to taunt a Greater Demon like that, but nothing he did was surprising anymore. Jace was no fool when it came down to it, and when he got like this, he was nothing but downright terrifying and quite possibly capable of following through with any and every threat he made.

Asmodeus had never looked more evil than he did in that moment, glaring at Alec's _parabatai._. "You, Shadowhunter, are about as brave as you are stupid. But no matter. I haven't come to discuss what has happened. I've come for revenge, and have no doubt, it _will _be mine."

* * *

Something had clicked for Jace while Asmodeus had spoken about Clary's captor, and he knew he wasn't alone in that revelation. Across the small clearing the Greater Demon stood in, on the other side of the Shadowhunters that had begun gathering, he spotted, for the first time that day, Jem Carstairs, formerly Brother Zachariah of the Silent Brothers. The expression on the other Shadowhunter's face was enough for Jace to figure out. Jem knew something. And with as helpful as Asmodeus was being, he just hoped it was enough to find Clary and get her back before it was too late. He met the former Silent Brother's eyes across the way, an exchange passed between them and the latter nodded.

"So, what?" Jace goaded now, looking for an opening, the plan already playing itself out in his mind. "You want us to fight you, is that it?"

The Greater Demon let out an indignant chuckle, "As if you could beat me. Such a stupid little child you are."

Jace's fury was building again. He was eighteen years old. He was not a child. And he was so done with this. "You forget I'm not alone."

"What chance do you think you all will stand if I let loose my army on you once more?"

"Why don't you try it and see?" Someone, one of the younger Alicante Shadowhunters, called out angrily.

Jace continued, unabated, "I wasn't referring to them. Though, by all means, go ahead. I, for one, am happy to see so many disgusting things sent back where they belong." He turned his head and met eyes with Magnus, who stood across the way and had, somehow, managed to remain unnoticed. Or, at least, allegedly unimportant. He nodded minutely, and the warlock mirrored the motion in response before he began moving toward where Jace stood beside Alec, his face a mask of calm determination.

"My son," Asmodeus said in mock disappointment, taking notice of the exchange, "It seems my pride in you was misplaced after all." Magnus said nothing, still walking, about halfway through the crowd now. "I am surprised though, to see you functioning so well. It would appear you have found yet another way to flout my influence. No matter though," he turned back toward Jace, "Whatever miserable excuse of a plan you have will not work in the end. As it is, your love is being poisoned as we speak, if her heart even still beats, that is." Magnus stopped beside him then and Jace made a decision.

"You demand a sacrifice to leave us, as per usual, I assume?" Magnus proposed of his father, his voice even and his expression stoic.

"And, what? You assume that your previous offer is still valid? You, warlock, are as foolish as the rest if you think I will let this go this easily. Your life means nothing to me…"

Jace stopped listening, already knowing how this was going to go and not caring what the demon had to say. Pulling his _stele _from his coat pocket, he grabbed his _parabatai's _arm, pushed the sleeve up, and began drawing Clary's newest rune on his forearm. "_What _are you doing?" Alec demanded, his tone hushed, though Asmodeus was paying them little attention at this point, engaged with Magnus now. He clearly was in no rush to wipe them all off the face of the earth.

"Stop squirming," Jace chided, "Listen. This is the best chance you've got if you want Magnus to go through with his plan _and_ survive. He already knows what to do, so just let him lead. Do what he says."

Alec looked like he couldn't decide whether to let shock or confusion dominate his emotions. "Wait… what?"

Jace sighed impatiently and whispered, "This rune. It completes the plan. After the kidnapping, I was supposed to be doing this because of the extra angel blood, but I need to go, so you're going to do it. Me applying the rune on you will have the same effect. Seriously, just follow Magnus' lead and do what he tells you."

Alec stared at the foreign Mark on his forearm, understanding dawning on his features. He glanced up at Jace again. "Clary?"

Jace nodded. "I have to find her. Before it's too late."

Alec nodded, a new light in his eyes, a hope, stronger than Jace had seen in him since the very beginning of all of this, coming to life on his face. He clapped Jace quickly on the back in encouragement, "Good luck, man."

"You too." And with that, Jace spun on his heals, ignoring as Asmodeus called insults after him, and was satisfied to see Jem heading in the same direction he did. The Greater Demon threatened to find him and deal with him later. Jace almost snorted. He would like to see him try.

They broke free of the throng of demons; Jace, Jem, and, Jace found, Simon. He turned and looked at him, not slowing his pace.

"You're going after her, aren't you? I'm coming with you." Simon wasn't giving him an option.

Jace looked at him for a second as they ran and then nodded slightly. It was only fair, and Jace knew that what Simon lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm, or in this case, anger, when it came to Clary.

The three of them left Central Park and stopped on a sidewalk just outside it. "You know where she is, don't you?" Jace asked, looking at the Asian Shadowhunter.

"I have a pretty good idea. It's a good thing I had to be in Idris today. I'm almost positive I know who took her, and, well, let's just say I'm out for revenge just as much as you are."

Jace eyed him for a two-count. "Alright. You can have the demon, as long as I get Clary."

Jem smiled. "Done."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Next update soon. Feedback is always welcome. :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**So I am on a serious roll right now with these updates, so here is another one!**

* * *

Consciousness came in waves, and when it did, Clary wished it hadn't. She could see next to nothing through the haze of pain and her tear-filled eyes. What she did see, she could make no sense of, and she lacked the energy or the incentive to try. Her dreams, or maybe they were hallucinations, were vibrant and colorful, a constant repeating flow of familiar faces, though her poisoned brain moved slowly, and often they disappeared, moving on to the next before she could put a name to the face.

Even in her semi-conscious state, everything hurt. Her veins burned with fire. Her head pounded. Her stomach ached. She was nauseous and freezing, probably feverish. She felt like her limbs ought to be nothing but blackened husks at this point.

Yanluo approached her again now, his misshapen figure, made worse by her blurry vision, looming over her once more. Even in the dark, his smile gleamed venomously. He held up another syringe and, a second later, another onslaught of agony shocked her system back into a tormented sleep.

* * *

The three Shadowhunters jogged briskly down the sidewalks of Manhattan, getting further from Central Park and the showdown taking place there with every step they took. "Where are we going?" Simon asked, keeping pace surprisingly well beside Jace. He'd honestly been wondering the same thing. He doubted the Brotherhood had allowed Jem to tour New York City regularly enough for him to know his way around.

"Is there a chemical plant nearby?" Jem asked, as they slowed to a stop, "Or a landfill?"

"In Manhattan?" Jace asked, "Not likely, why?"

The Asian Shadowhunter's expression was grim. "If Clary's captor is who I think he is, the poison he's likely using smells strongly of burnt sugar. If he has a large quantity of it, the odor will be hard to conceal. An area with normally foul-smelling air would be the best cover up for it."

"How could you know what poison he's using?" Jace asked skeptically.

Jem's expression turned haunted. "Because it's the same demon who killed my parents and the same poison it tortured me with as a child."

Jace blinked, completely speechless for once. It was Simon who spoke up, after letting that shocking bit of information sink in for a few seconds. "Well, New York City doesn't smell the greatest normally, but…" He trailed off, realization dawning on his face. His eyes widened, "Wait. Burnt sugar? As in the smell that would surround an abandoned sugar factory?"

Jem began nodding. "Exact-"

The revelation hit Jace like a freight train. Why hadn't he thought of that? There was an old Domino Sugar factory right down the road from Clary's home. This whole time, she'd been so close. "Of _course_!" He took off running, not waiting to see if the other Shadowhunters followed. He flagged down a cab quickly and a minute later, they were heading toward the outskirts of the city, to fight a demon, and-Jace prayed they weren't too late, to get Clary back.

* * *

Alec watched his _parabatai _leave, half in a state of shock. Asmodeus was still talking, taunting Magnus and Jace, and all of them. Alec was honestly surprised the Greater Demon had let him, along with, Alec had noted, Simon and a familiar former Silent Brother leave so easily, though really, he had the opportunity to kill more Shadowhunters by staying. Alec had no doubt he could easily find the other three after all of this was over.

That, of course, was assuming Asmodeus won this war he had waged. Magnus' plan was a promising one in ensuring that that didn't happen, and Alec would have no problem supporting it if it didn't mean he would potentially lose Magnus to that very plan. Though it seemed there was a lot more to it than Alec had known. He didn't know how to feel about that. There was no time to feel anything about it now.

He looked away from watching Jace-nearly out of sight now, retreat, and looked at every single Shadowhunter his eyes fell on as he brought his eyes back around to where Magnus stood beside him, no longer looking at his father, but at him. And in doing that, Alec made a decision. He couldn't very well let all of them die out of his own selfishness. Magnus seemed inclined to go through with his plan with or without his approval, but Alec knew it wasn't easy for him and he knew now that he couldn't make things more difficult by not supporting him. What Magnus was doing was noble, and while Alec would not pretend to like it, he would stand by the warlock's side until the end. He was a Shadowhunter. It was his duty to make sacrifices for the good of his kind. He took a deep breath. "Tell me what to do."

Magnus saw the change in him immediately. Alec knew, because his eyes filled with a love and approval for him like never before. As their eyes met for that one second, something passed between the two of them. Alec had never felt something as right as that moment. And yet, he was terrified of what he was about to do.

Asmodeus had gone quiet, having noticed their exchange. "What is this?" he thundered. Magnus ignored him.

"I'm going to give you my power," Magnus said to Alec, whose eyes widened and then narrowed, confused. "Like you will physically hold it in your hand. The rune allows for that. It will make it a tangible weapon." He spoke so softly, Alec could hardly hear him, but it also meant no one else, particularly the Greater Demon, could either.

"How…?"

"When I tell you to, you'll have to toss it up. I will still have minimal control over it. I'll force it on him. Hopefully it will be enough to end this."

"What will happen to you?" Alec asked, unsure of whether he really wanted an answer.

Magnus hesitated and looked away before looking back at him again. "I don't know."

The answer sent another wave of pain through Alec, but he had resigned himself to doing what was right and he would deal with the results after. He had to. There was no other choice. He took a deep breath and nodded. Magnus stepped forward and cupped Alec's cheek in his hand. "I love you, Alexander," he said, gold-green eyes holding so much love and adoration, "Thank you for finally allowing me to _live. _"

"I love you too," Alec replied, eyes stinging, "I always will." Magnus held his gaze for another second; Alec could feel the dozens of eyes on them, before retracting his hand. The separation was almost physically painful.

Magnus turned back to face his father. The Greater Demon raised his eyebrows, again looking amused. "Did you have a nice moment there?"

Magnus ignored him. "You say that my offer of my immortality, of my power, isn't enough to satisfy your requirements this time, is that correct?"

Asmodeus sneered. "You had your chance, stupid warlock. Any privilege you may have one held in my eyes vanished the day you defied me to help Shadowhunters. Now you will suffer with the rest of them. You will all serve me now."

Magnus raised an eyebrow theatrically. "And what if that decision is not yours to make?"

This time, Asmodeus did laugh out loud; a single, loud bark of a laugh. "And who are you, who is any one of you, to tell me what is and isn't my decision to make? I hold every card here. You are _nothing._ I could have killed you a hundred times over by this point. In fact, I don't know why I haven't." All round them, the demon hordes went on the offensive again, attacking suddenly, and the Shadowhunters and werewolves were forced back into battle with them, the suddenness of it taking a toll on some of them.

Magnus spoke up quickly, before his father could say or do anything else. "I'm not giving you a choice, Father. You forget. You may be immensely powerful, but you have not left me with nothing. I have power of my own, and I intend to use it, every last ounce of it, to ensure that you will not be returning here to bother those I love again."

"You are _nothing_!" Asmodeus boomed, "You are but an ant I crush under my shoes. You are worthless! You were born so and you will die in the same condition! You have no control over me. You are foolish to even _think _as much. And, my son, have no doubt that I will end you. Your time, foolish warlock, is _long _up!"

"Get ready!" Magnus called and turned toward Alec again, eyes closing tightly. His chest began to glow slightly, the familiar, sparkly blue glow that Alec associated with his magic, only it was brighter now than it had ever been before, a sapphire sun radiating out of him. It grew brighter and brighter, bigger and bigger, until it was no longer inside him, but in the space between the two of them. "Take it," Magnus said weakly, collapsing to his knees.

"What are you _doing?_" Asmodeus demanded furiously, surprisingly remaining where he was-for now. Alec's heart was hammering. Hesitantly, he reached forward and took the shining blue orb, slightly bigger than a basketball in size, in his hands, just as it began falling toward the ground. The second it came in contact with his skin, Alec knew why Jace had mentioned his and Clary's extra angel blood being preferable. The power contained in the sphere was immense, and quite obviously evil in origin. He was immediately forced into a battle of will, fighting against the desire to give in and be consumed by the immeasurable power he held in his hands. Never had Alec better understood the tendency of warlocks to become evil than in that moment. Magic was evil; he'd always known that, but he felt it now like he never had before. Resisting the force of such malicious, raw power was almost impossible. Raziel's blood ran in his veins, and even it was almost not enough. They had nothing to help them.

"Now," Magnus wheezed from the ground, so weakly, Alec almost missed the command; he was so absorbed.

The Greater Demon must have lost patience because he launched himself forward with a shout of "Enough!" but he was too late. Alec tossed the orb into the air, which was harder than it should have been-it seemed almost glued to his hands, and Magnus, with an obvious final effort, thrust his hand out and the sphere came to life and shot toward Asmodeus, who, though he was stronger, was taken off guard. It seemed to grow as it neared the demon, absorbing his power and combining it with its own. The Greater Demon looked astonished for half a second, before crying out, so loud it echoed across the fields and fighting, resounding through the trees beyond. "No-o-o-o!" He collapsed down then, in a similar fashion to the way his son had, but he began crumbling then, slowly, until he was but a pile of ash on the ground, which the breeze blew away a moment later. Alec stood, mouth agape, amazement dominating every part of him in that moment. He wasn't even completely sure what had just happened; only that Asmodeus seemed to be no more.

With their leader gone, the demon army lost any semblance of cohesion that remained, and the Nephilim and lycanthropes looked to have little trouble with the rest of them. Alec didn't join them though. He looked from the spot on the ground that had formerly been the Greater Demon, the source of his every problem in the recent months, to Magnus, who was sprawled in a heap on the ground. His shock was replaced with an intense fear then, and he was suddenly able to move again. He bent down over his boyfriend's limp form, heart in his throat.

* * *

The taxi dropped them off a block away from the old factory and after flinging a handful of money at they driver and not waiting for the change, Jace was out and running, Simon and Jem keeping pace on either side of him. The scent of burnt sugar permeated the air around them and made Jace feel slightly sick, knowing what he did now about it.

They stopped outside the side entrance, the door of which was broken, the handle and lock busted. All three were breathing heavily from the long sprint, but neither of Jace's companions looked interested in resting, which was good, because Jace wasn't sure he would have let them anyway. He hoped with everything in him that this was the right place. They had neither options nor the time if it wasn't.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Right behind you," Jem answered. Simon just nodded, procuring a Seraph blade from his belt, which was missing some of its stock from the battle.

"Okay," Jace said, and, taking a deep breath, with his own weapon in his hand, he kicked the door open and led the way inside.

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**Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Heres the next update, up as soon as I could get it posted (I tried to upload it from my phone on my way to school this morning... it didn't work). Hope you like it!**

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If the smell outside the factory was strong, inside, it was almost intolerable. The potent scent of burnt sugar engulfed Jace with the first breath he took within the structure, and he had to fight the urge to cough against it.

The belly of the factory consisted of a single, vast room, long and very dark. Windows lined the walls where they met the high ceiling, but they were almost completely blackened, which kept the light of day from shining in. Support columns were spaced evenly throughout the wide room, and as Jace's eyes adjusted, he could see that some of them were crumbling with age and rot. Scattered around in a seemingly haphazard fashion, were large bits of old machinery. Conveyer belts still connected some of the less rundown pieces.

Beside him, Simon whistled under his breath. "Always wondered what the inside of this place looked like," he said, "I have to say, I'm disappointed."

Jace shushed him. "Let's just hope the ceiling holds long enough for us to get out." He looked to Jem, who stood on the other side of Simon, "What do you think? Is this the place?"

The older Shadowhunter's voice was cold. "If I were a betting man, I'd place all my money on yes." He looked then from the empty factory before them to Jace, "I'm almost positive."

Jace nodded, both relieved and anxious. That confirmation was good enough for him. Looking around, it wasn't hard to agree. This place was as dismal as they came. The demon was here. That meant Clary was too. It was hard to believe she'd only been missing for a day; it might as well have been a century for the effect it was having on him. "Alright," he said, "Let's go."

* * *

At some point during the endless torture, Clary's hallucinations turned horrifying, rather than confusing, which was definitely worse. There was blood now, lots of it. The world was burning around her. The tortured screams of her loved ones sounded in her ears. Trapped in the endless blackness that had completely entombed her, she wondered if she had died and was in Hell. Nothing else could be this awful. Her body still burned, licked by the endless tongues of flame that were consuming her from the inside out, and somehow, even _thinking_ hurt. So she didn't try, simply resigning herself to the endless wandering of the delirious and dying mind that was surely her own. The nightmarish images would come, plague her, and then move on to the next. An endless cycle of torment.

She came to again, released once more from the mental anguish and temporarily left with just the physical, though surely it wouldn't last long; it never did. Yanluo was there again. The room seemed slightly brighter than it had before. Maybe it was daytime outside. Maybe it was just her imagination. Either way, it did not at all improve the sight before her.

The demon grinned at her, like he was satisfied to see her awake. Perhaps he was. "Why…?" she attempted to ask, but her voice was choked off, her throat dry as the Sahara, and the most she could manage was a pitiful, broken whimper.

"Why am I doing this?" Yanluo finished for her, assuming that was what she'd been attempting to ask. Clary didn't know if it was. She couldn't remember what she'd been trying to say. The demon's grin widened, his taught face revealing the full extent of his evil, which was evident in every inch of it. "I told you, _revenge._" He spoke the word like a purr, or maybe like a hiss. Clary's head was pounding so hard she honestly wasn't able to process it. Yanluo continued, "I am finishing what was started long before you were born. And while I was intent to settle on the first Shadowhunter I could find upon arriving back to my old hunting grounds, I have to admit, I am glad this deal involved me getting you instead. You are a tough one, and breaking your will has turned out to be an _exceptionally_ enjoyable challenge."

Clary put her every effort into scowling up at him, trying to look unafraid. She honestly doubted it was working. "What…" she weakly spit through her teeth, "do you… want… from me?"

Yanluo's eyebrows narrowed, his smile as taunting as ever. "I am so glad you asked," he said as he bent down until his face was inches from her own. The stench coming off him was beyond repulsive, in spite of how bad Clary knew she smelled herself. "I want you to _beg,_ Clarissa. I want you to grovel at my feet and plead for your life. I want you devoid of every last _ounce _of pride inside you," he paused, "Do that, and I _might _just let you live." That was a lie. Flat out. Greater Demons didn't work like that, and Clary was not about to fall for such an obvious trick. She would go out fighting just as hard as she had come in. She owed that much to herself, to her family, to _Jace._

"Go," she ground out painfully, "to _Hell_." Yanluo, with an earsplitting growl, lurched back upright and sent his hand cracking against her face, so hard, it knocked the folding chair on its side, Clary still bound to it. She cracked her head hard on the cold floor, though the pain was nothing compared to the agony that again consumed her as more of the poison entered her system at the demon's hand. She only wished the concussion had been bad enough to knock her out.

"Go ahead, foolish girl," Yanluo taunted slowly, bent over her once more, enjoying every bit of torment he unleashed on her. "Continue to resist. You will break eventually. They always do. I will get what I want, and then, I will enjoy killing y-" He broke off abruptly then and straightened. His face contorted in anger again after a second and he let out a sigh, which turned into a growl and randomly turned and walked quickly out door, leaving Clary alone again in the room, poison pulsing through her veins, blood seeping, again, from her head onto the floor, and a flicker of curiosity allowing her to hope just a tiny bit, even through the agony, as the hallucinations pulled at her again and her eyes closed once more.

* * *

They didn't get very far before Jem halted their procession. "Wait," he warned, eyes scanning the dark room cautiously. Jace and Simon did the same, the former slipping a Seraph blade from his belt.

Simon asked, "What's-?" but cut off quickly when a large dark shape flew toward him out of nowhere. "Woah!" He dove out of the way, the cry escaping his lips in pure surprise. He landed in a heap on the hard concrete floor, far from gracefully, but he was alive. He scrambled to his feet. The other two Shadowhunters were already facing the Greater Demon.

"How _dare _you come here?" Yanluo-Jem had called him that on the way there, roared furiously. "Foolish! Every one of you! Coming here like this, as if you'd possibly stand a chance."

"We killed one of you today. I don't see what makes you any better than he was," Jace spat, his barely controlled rage fraying the edges of his tough façade. On the blonde Shadowhunter's other side, Jem stood, literally shaking in his anger. Simon had never seen the usually calm Shadowhunter so filled with rage.

"Asmodeus was a prideful imbecile. Go ahead and try defeating me. You won't live to see the sun set tonight. Not a one of you. I don't allow for survivors."

And then Jem seemed to lose it a little. "_That _is where you are wrong!" he exploded, his sword appearing threateningly in his hand. He held it between the demon and himself.

Yanluo looked amused, if not slightly taken aback at his outburst. "And why is that? Do enlighten me, stupid mortal."

Jem's glare was unyielding. "You don't remember me, do you? Frankly, I'm not surprised, a creature as obtuse as yourself."

"_Obtuse?_ You dare call _me _obtuse? If you, impudent Shadowhunter, were anything yourself but that, you would know that I haven't seen a single one of your kind in over a century."

Jem simply continued, unrelenting. "And your assuming that I wouldn't know such only strengthens my argument. Frankly, it figures you wouldn't remember me; the helpless twelve year old you tortured and made an orphan, and then left to die from the poison _you _injected him with, fleeing like the coward you are."

"You Nephilim seem to be growing worse and worse in your lying abilities. That boy lived over a hundred years ago. Even if he had survived long into adulthood, which I made sure would never have happened, he would still be long dead. Your argument is flawed."

Believe what you wish," Jem spat, "But I will _not _allow you to subject that innocent girl to the same fate you did me."

Yanluo looked exceptionally entertained. He raised his eyebrows and spread his arms wide. "Go ahead and try. It is always a pleasure to kill Shadowhunters. _Especially _irritating ones."

Jem moved so quickly, Simon's eyes missed the movement in the dark. A single runed blade flew forward toward the Greater Demon's throat with lightning quick precision. Yanluo snatched the knife from the air before it could hit its mark, but the angelic runes in the hilt burnt into his hand, emitting a satisfying frying sound. He dropped it quickly but the damage to his hand had already been done, and it had provided just enough time for Jem to spring into action. He got a solid sword strike in before Yanluo could get completely out of the way. It wasn't fatal, but it slowed him down, and that was clearly the point. "Go!" Jem yelled to Jace, who had named his Seraph blade and looked ready to assist him. When he hesitated, looking the most torn Simon had ever seen him, Jem, after rolling out of the way of one of Yanluo's blows-they were fully engaged in the fight now, said again, "Go. Find Clary. I need to do this myself."

"I won't let you get yourself killed," Jace protested, which, in a fleeting thought, Simon found ironic, being as that was exactly the opposite of what Jace did almost every day.

"Leave Simon then," Jem countered, moving so quickly in the deadly match that he seemed more a shadow in the dark factory than a person. Honestly, Simon doubted his chances against a Greater Demon on his own, but Jace, after sizing him up quickly, seemed indifferent of that plan because he ran off into the darkness. Yanluo attempted to follow him, to protect his captive from rescue, but Jem made sure that didn't happen.

Simon, after standing and watching helplessly as the older Shadowhunter completely battled it out with the demon, decided he needed to do _something_ useful here. Assuming the odds were pretty good that Yanluo, who was adequately occupied, wouldn't attack him in the next five seconds, he allowed himself a cursory scan of the area. He could make out more details, now that his eyes had fully adjusted to the dim light, and as he eyed the windows lining the tops of the walls on either side of the long room, the beginnings of an idea began knitting itself together in his mind. It was a weak plan, and kind of unoriginal, but still, it had potential. Or, at least, the potential to have potential.

He threw one last look towards Yanluo and Jem, determined that his fellow Shadowhunter was still steadfastly holding his own, and crossed the space to one of the piles of old machinery that lay scattered across the floor. The scraps of metal were twisted and looked like they had been torn apart, as if some angry giant had taken his feelings out on the contraption. Simon didn't know what could have caused that and he didn't care. He just dug through the pile until he found some useful bits, large and heavy enough to serve his purpose without being too big.

He carried as many as he could in his arms until he stood directly in front of the closest dirty window, readied one of the scraps in his hand and threw it as hard and straight as he could at it. The old glass stood little chance against the weighty object-which would have been too heavy for Simon to throw that far four months earlier-and it shattered, emitting the rays of bright sunlight that had been kept out until that point and lighting the room significantly.

"What are you _doing_?" Yanluo demanded, making an obvious effort to move away from the light, which allowed Jem a lucky shot with his sword.

"Yes," the other Shadowhunter asked as well, eyes not leaving his opponent, "What _are _you doing?"

"Shedding a little light on the situation," Simon answered, moving to the next window and breaking it too. Jem probably thought he was insane, but with every pane that broke, more light flooded in and Yanluo backed further and further away.

After the fourth window was shattered, Jem finally seemed to figure out what was going on. "Yes!" he shouted, grinning as he dodged another of the Greater Demon's attacks, "Yes, Simon, that's _brilliant_!" Grinning himself now, Simon continued with his plan. Crazy as it was, it seemed, by some miracle, to be working.

He had almost cleared the entire row of windows when his supply of toss-able objects had dwindled severely and Jem seemed, finally, to be losing ground. He was clearly getting tired, despite the obvious anger that fueled him, and Yanluo obviously knew it. There wasn't time to dig through the heaps of twisted machinery again and Simon knew his lack of experience wouldn't allow for him to help in actual combat. His best option was sticking to his well-meaning plan. He grabbed a knife from his belt, heavy and made well, and threw it at the next window. It was a nice weapon-he'd have to remember to retrieve it later. It worked-the window, like the others, shattered and the room grew brighter still.

Eventually, Yanluo was cornered, the threatening sunlight confining him to about a seven-foot square area. He clearly knew he was in a sticky situation, one he could no longer easily fight his way out of, though if that's what he had been doing before, he didn't have much to show for it. Even Simon could tell his intention was to run. "Is that what you will do then?" Jem demanded, "Flee from another fight you can't win like the coward you are?" He didn't wait for the demon's answer. "I don't think so, not this time. He lifted a shining dagger from his belt and held it up to a ray of light shining down on him from the nearest broken window. The blade caught the sunlight and Jem expertly directed it toward Yanluo, who, under the beam, collapsed in, shying away from it as it literally seemed to burn right through him. He began folding in on himself, escaping, but Jem had other ideas. Between one second and the next, he lifted his last Seraph Blade from his belt, named it "Raziel," an exceptionally powerful name, and thrust it at what had been the demon's chest. Yanluo yelled as black blood shot from the wound around the blade and he began to melt into it, as if the angelic power was absorbing every bit of the evil engulfing it.

Simon came to stand beside Jem, who stood staring at the spot that had formerly been Yanluo, the Greater Demon he apparently had quite an extensive history with. Jem looked at him when he approached and held out his hand, which Simon shook. "That was an exceptional idea," he complimented him, his subtle English accent becoming evident as he spoke, breathing heavily.

"Thank you. You're bleeding." And he was. He had a gash across his cheek, down to his chin, severing one of the scars already there from the runes of the Brotherhood.

"I know. I'm alright, thanks."

Simon eyed him. "So, uh… twelve year old orphan? Poison…? I hope you plan on elaborating a bit."

Jem sighed as he pulled a_ stele_ from his pocket and traced a healing rune onto his wrist. "I will. Later. We aren't done yet. Hopefully Jace was able to locate Clary. We need to find them." At the mention of her, all of Simon's worry and fear for his best friend came flooding back to him like the light had through the broken windows, and she was all he could think about. He nodded. "Lead the way," Jem said.

* * *

**I know you guys are dying here to see what happens with Clary, but you'll have to wait just a little longer! I have started the next chapter already though and it is in there, I promise! Thank you for reading and I promise to again update ASAP.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Here it is, guys! I know you've been waiting for this, so I got it written as fast as I could. 9 hour car rides are good for something...**

**Anyway, I hope you like it. I'm thinking at least one more chapter and then an epilogue, but I'm away this week for spring break so it may be a few days before I can get another update written. I'm posting this from my phone now as it is. But rest assured, I will continue to write until this story reaches it's end. Stay tuned!**

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Jace had never in his life turned his back on a fight. But as he walked through the dark remains of the sugar factory, the echoing sounds of fighting fading behind him, he was oddly grateful. He needed to find Clary, and every second that he spent not doing that was another second she could be slipping away from him for good.

And Jem seemed more than capable, especially right now. Jace would have to ask about that later; there was obviously some key information about the former Silent Brother that he was missing. He'd known that already-he'd just never had a reason to pry very much before. He had a feeling that would probably be changing soon.

The factory seemed to consist mostly of the main room they'd entered first, though along the back wall, he could see with his witchlight, there were a handful of doors spaced unevenly along it. They looked to have been labeled once, but age and misuse had faded them into illegibility. Trial and error proved them to lead to storage rooms, a few tiny offices, and a really disgusting bathroom.

With every door he opened to reveal another empty room, he grew more and more impatient, but he didn't dare become careless. There was no guarantee that Yanluo was the only demon around.

The second to last door opened to reveal another small office, slightly bigger than the others, which wasn't hard as they had not been much larger than broom closets. The room was dark and dingy, like all the others, but Jace immediately recognized something different about it, even before he lifted the rune stone in his hand and flooded the room with witchlight and his heart froze for a moment as a dozen emotions suddenly fought for control in a single second; none of them good.

In the center of the small space was a metal folding chair, lying on its side. And bound to that chair, her limp body broken and bloody, was-

"Clary!" He quickly determined that they were alone in the room and rushed toward her, dropping to his knees, his breaths coming in quick, short gasps as panic set over him, all pretense of his usual calm fading fast. "Clary," he murmured, half to himself, gently brushing a loose strand of matted hair away from her neck, as carefully as if she were made of fine crystal. Bracing himself, be brought his two fingers to rest just under her jawbone-and sighed in relief, suddenly on the verge of crying, when he felt her pulse, weak and flying, but very much there. He immediately set to work on the bindings holding her wrists to the cold metal of the folding chair, his knife slicing through them like butter.

The seconds her hands were free, Clary awoke slightly and, obviously not knowing it was Jace who knelt so close to her, began vigorously fighting against him. "Hey!" he cried out, trying to restrain her arms. Her attempts were so weak, it broke his heart. "Clary! Clary, it's _me_! It's Jace. Hey! It's okay!" He half-lifted her from the chair and the floor and pulled her, sticky with sweat and blood, to him, rocking her slightly as he murmured, "You're okay. You're okay. I've got you." She stopped struggling and, with a gasp, which turned into a sob, she seemed to come to a bit more.

"Jace," she said through her tears. Her tone made him think she didn't believe he was really there. Still, she curled into him. She was burning up.

He just held her for a second, relief flooding him completely. "I'm here. It's okay, baby. You're okay now."

"He'll come back," she slurred, sounding as if she was close to unconsciousness once again, despite her obvious terror, "He'll kill-"

"It's okay," Jace repeated. "That monster isn't coming back. I promise. Jem is dealing with him. And Simon's here too. It's okay now."

* * *

Magnus looked- Alec couldn't bring himself to think it as he dropped to his knees beside the broken form of the one he loved more than life itself. _Dead. _But he couldn't be. It simply could not be true. He wouldn't accept it.

A small part of his brain, the only part that wasn't completely overwhelmed by despair, noted that, all around him, the sounds of battle were dying out, replaced by a silence that seemed to permeate right through him. He could feel the eyes on him as he moved to rest his hand over Magnus' heart. He'd said it would happen like this, he'd told Alec what to expect, and why. And yet, still, Alec had clung to some small useless hope that had refused to die. And now it was gone; everything was. Magnus was gone. And he'd never felt more broken.

Alec was fighting tears, hard. His shoulders heaved as he struggled to breathe evenly. He couldn't bring himself to accept it. Someone stepped forward behind him and set a hand on his shoulder. "Alec," the tear-filled voice was his sister's, "I'm so-"

He didn't wait for her to finish. He placed a hand on either side of Magnus' face and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the warlock's, allowing the tears to freely flow, and then, wrapping his arms around his body, laid his head in the crook of his neck, like he'd done so many times before. But never like this. God, he'd _never_ imagined this.

Maybe he would have noticed sooner, had the silent sobs not been wracking his body so violently and the grief pervading his every thought and feeling until it consumed him completely, the heart that beat against his own, growing steadier and stronger with every passing second.

"Don't cry, Alexander," said the only voice he wanted to hear, in the exact tone he would have wanted to hear it in, "How can I see those beautiful eyes of yours if you do?"

Alec straightened so abruptly; he almost fell backward, overcompensating. His jaw was slack. His eyes were wide. He knew they were. He simply lacked the ability to remember how to close them.

Magnus laid before him, still on he ground and looking awful, but alive, and awake, and _smiling _at him. "Breathe, Alec," he prompted after a few seconds.

"You… you were…" Alec was not yet over his shock enough to be able to coherently speak.

"Clearly, I am not dead, Alec," Magnus countered gently, struggling to sit himself up before he gave up and fell back onto the ruined grass beneath him. "However, coming so close to it tends to leave one exceptionally drained. Help me sit up?"

Alec did, and then wrapped him tightly in his arms, finally getting somewhat of a grip of himself. "I love you," he said into Magnus' shoulder, "By the Angel, I love you so much. I thought I'd lost you."

"I love you too, Alexander. More than you know. I'm right here."

It was only when the Shadowhunters and werewolves surrounding them started clapping and cheering that Alec even remembered that they were there at all.

He pulled away and allowed himself one long look, for really the first time, at all that he'd come so impossibly close to losing today. He gasped, taking the warlock's face in between his hands again, "Magnus, your eyes!"

"What about them?"

"They-they're _green_."

"Yes, I'm aware, Alexander."

"No, I mean, like, completely green. No more gold. They're just… human eyes."

Magnus seemed taken aback. "Really?"

Alec nodded, honestly unsure of how to feel about it. Isabelle crouched down beside him then and looked into Magnus' eyes herself. "Wow, he's right. Your Warlock's Mark is gone, Magnus."

The latter shrugged then, surprisingly unfazed by the development. "As is logical, I suppose. I'm not a warlock anymore. My power is gone."

Izzy blinked, "Like, totally gone?"

"Gone. Trust me, I can feel it."

"So…" Alec surmised slowly, "You're human now?"

The former warlock smiled contentedly. "I'd say so, yes. As mortal as you are." He paused, considering for a second, "Actually, I suppose slightly _more _than you are."

"So, you…" Alec couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. And he didn't need to.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised." Magnus smirked, "But I suppose it _will _take a few years for us to come to any true conclusions."

In that moment, hearing those words, as Alec stared at Magnus staring back at him, he found himself fighting tears again and smiling. Smiling so widely. In that moment, not caring who was watching, he leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend passionately, letting go of what seemed like every worry he'd ever had and letting them float away with the early autumn breeze blowing across what remained of Central Park.

* * *

Clary was unconscious again, still wrapped in his arms, when Jace moved to pick her up. Before he'd even finished the action, two figures appeared in the open doorway-obviously Simon and Jem, their silhouettes outlined in the light that now seemed to come from the larger room behind them. Simon, who was slightly ahead of the older Shadowhunter, faltered slightly in the room's entrance, eyes locked on the sight before him, of his best friend in Jace's arms. "Is she…?" He sounded deathly afraid of the answer.

"She's alive," Jace answered, straightening with her cradled in his arms. He would make no comments as to her being _okay. _That clearly wasn't the case, no matter how hard he wanted it to be. Simon sighed and nodded, obviously relieved.

It was Jem who spoke then, standing beside where Simon had stopped. "We need to get her to the Institute. Now." His tone warranted no argument and Jace was not in the state of mind to question his authority. Jem seemed to be in control right now, and that was fine with him.

Brother Enoch was waiting for them when they arrived at the Institute, along with two other Silent Brothers Jace couldn't name. Jem had called them along the way, though once he was in their presence he was virtually ignored. Apparently leaving the Brotherhood didn't bode as well with them as they would have liked outsiders to believe.

_Bring Clarissa to the infirmary. Quickly._ Brother Enoch's voice sounded in Jace's mind, and somehow his tone seemed urgent. None of the others were back yet. Simon walked ahead of him; either having heard the command himself or simply having figured out what was going on, opened the colossal door, and held it open for Jace to carry Clary through before following after him, his face a mask of poorly hidden worry.

Jace brought her upstairs and laid her down on the first of the many beds as gently as possible, and tried to be reassured when she didn't stir. He brushed his hand lightly against her cheek quickly before he was ushered out briskly by the Silent Brothers, who didn't allow for argument. The second Jace was out of the room and back in the hallway-and not at all happy about it, the door was closed firmly in his face.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hey guys! Here's the next chapter! Thanks for your patience this week while I was away! **

**So, real quick, this chapter has very very slight spoilers for The Infernal Devices. I don't think its anything worse than what was in CoHF, but if it is, sorry. If you haven't read TID, I highly recommend you do that. They are fantastic. Like, seriously, what are you waiting for? **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy the update and I will have the next one up as soon as I can!**

* * *

The runed blade of the dagger gleamed in the afternoon light that poured through the windows lining the wall opposite the one Jace sat against, as he twirled it over and over again in his restless hands. The wall was hard against his back and the floor cold beneath him, but he had no interest in moving.

Simon paced before him, as he'd been doing since Clary had been brought to the infirmary and they had been locked out. Jace didn't know how long ago that had been, and he'd given up on trying to keep track, as his watch, which must have been broken, was moving way too slowly to be accurate.

They were still in their fighting gear, as neither of them dared leave. At one point, the rest of the Institute's inhabitants, as well as the members of the Clave, had returned from the battle, which had clearly been won, seeing as they were all still here. He didn't know how much damage Asmodeus and his army had done. And he didn't care. Not right now.

Jocelyn had been led up, looking pale and terrified, and had been admitted into the room. Simon had protested as the door had begun to swing shut again behind her, but Jace had stayed put. Jocelyn was Clary's mother; that was why she was allowed in. No one else stood a chance. Even he knew that arguing with the Brothers wouldn't get him anywhere. And maybe he still would have tried, except that he felt bone-tired, like he'd never been before; emotionally strung out and exhausted. He just wanted Clary to be okay. More than he'd ever wanted anything, he wanted that.

That had been a while ago, and he and Simon had been waiting ever since; for some news, some sign that she was going to survive. He'd been straining to hear even the smallest noise from the other side of the door, to no avail. If he had to sit there much longer, he was going to go crazy.

"Will you _quit _the pacing?" he demanded now of Simon, not even bothering with his usual offensive sarcasm; his voice a strange mixture of venom, exasperation, and, though he hoped it wasn't obvious, desperation, "You're driving me insane."

Simon stopped, mid-stride, before him. He eyed his fellow Shadowhunter for a second, before sighing and heaving himself down on the floor beside him. _"Fine."_

Another voice sounded then, not from the infirmary, but from the other end of the hallway. "Any word?" Jace turned toward the voice, already knowing who it was, though not quite sure why he was there. Jem, walking toward them, stopped a few feet from where they sat on the floor.

Jace eyed him. He, too, was still in gear, though he probably didn't have anything else to change into. "No," he said simply after a second, even after Simon had already shaken his head in response.

Jem simply nodded, looking grim.

"Why are you still here?" Simon asked abruptly, though not rudely, "Haven't the Clave members have gone back to Alicante by now?" Jace had been wondering the same thing. He just didn't care enough at the moment to voice the question.

"They did," Jem answered, "About an hour ago."

Simon waited, and when the older Shadowhunter gave no further explanation, asked, "Why aren't you with them?"

It was another few seconds before Jem replied. "I have a… vested interest, you could say, in all of this. I'd like to be here to see what comes of it."

"You mean if Clary-if she survives or not," Jace clarified, an accusation clear in his tone. He couldn't say aloud what he'd originally intended to, couldn't associate the word _dies _with Clary. He wouldn't.

Jem took a deep breath and studied the floor for a second before meeting Jace's gaze-at this point, more of a glare-again. In that moment, he looked younger than Jace had ever seen him. All the wisdom of, what Jace assumed had been years as a Silent Brother, seemed to fade away, leaving behind a Shadowhunter, not much older than he himself was. "Yes," Jem answered, "I suppose that is what I mean."

"Why?" Jace asked, his tone less acidic and more tired, "Why do you care?"

"Well," Jem said, his subtle English accent becoming momentarily more pronounced, "For one thing, it is because of you, Jace Herondale, that I am out here with you right now, as opposed to being on the other side of that door." He glanced at the infirmary door, closed tight. "It's a rather long story," he said, walking to side against the wall opposite them, "But I suppose I owe you both an explanation after this morning anyway. And it seems like the two of you could use a distraction."

He stopped and looked at them, not saying anything more. Jace, deciding that Jem was right about the distraction at least, raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

The Shadowhunter's lips twitched slightly at that, as if he were amused, but he did go on. "It was 1873. I was eleven years old, living in Shanghai. My parents ran the Institute there…"

* * *

The pain stopped abruptly. Although, _stopped _really wasn't the word. _Numbed _was more like it. Out of a blistering, excruciating haze of flames and burning, a sudden, unknown coolness washed over Clary, like the scorching poison fire had before, this time ridding her of every sensation. She couldn't feel her body, but she could no longer feel the pain either. It was glorious.

She was still trapped, stuck in a net of dreams and unconsciousness, even while she was aware of it. As she came further into herself-a painstakingly slow process of half-lucidity, passing images, and streaks of color that knotted themselves into an undistinguishable jumble in her mind; she became aware of a sound, faraway, unintelligible, but definitely there. She was on the edge of consciousness, stuck on the brink of wakefulness; neither awake nor completely asleep. It shouldn't have been hard to push through the fog that held her, trapped just beneath the surface of awareness, but it was. She could do nothing to break herself out of the slumber. A truth that was both aggravating and terrifying. What was happening?

She stopped fighting the darkness and sank back into her internal world of dreams and hallucinations, which were more pleasant now that she was no longer burning from the inside out.

She had no idea what was going on. She'd long ago lost the ability to discern the real from the unreal, and the visions that had monopolized her consciousness had been so contradictory, she'd long since lost all semblance of time and space. Was she still dying at the hand of Yanluo? Was she already dead? She didn't know, and she couldn't formulate the will to care.

She didn't know the exact moment that she broke through the barrier into the world of consciousness again, or what specifically changed; only that one moment, she was, as she had been, trapped in the thick, bottomless blackness of the drugged; and the next, the fog had cleared, her thoughts were once again her own, and she could feel her body again.

The last thing though, may not have necessarily been a blessing. Her body, though it didn't burn anymore, felt hollowed out, melted, as if it had been microwaved.

Still, she could feel again, and was aware now, and the flames were gone. She'd never felt better.

Slowly, painfully-everything hurt, she didn't have to move to know that-she opened her eyes-and swiftly shut them again, blinded by the light of the world outside. Light. Meaning she was not in the small, dark room that had served as her torture chamber anymore. Did that mean…? Could it be true?

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes again, blinking against the bright but fighting to keep them open. She'd had enough of the darkness. As her vision slowly came into focus, she was able to make out the shapes before her eyes, blurry but definitely there. Light blue. White Clouds. Images of angels dancing across them. She'd come to recognize the image; even with her brain working as slowly as it was, she knew it.

She was in the infirmary. In the Institute. Safe. Alive. She was at home.

The relief that flooded through her was so strong, it was almost painful. This was real. She knew it. Nothing she'd seen since the poison had first entered her system at Yanluo's hand had been so steady, in focus, and clear. The detail of the painted ceiling, the cool air of the room in her lungs, the clean sheets scratching against her skin.

Gathering her strength-she was so weak!, she turned her head to the side. A figure sat beside her bed, familiar to Clary even with her slowly clearing vision. Her mother. She held one of Clary's hands in both of hers, leaning toward her, eyes closed, as if she were praying. She'd obviously been crying, tears had left wet trails down both her cheeks. Hesitantly, wincing at the intense pain that flared to life and shot up her arm and through her body at the action, Clary squeezed her mother's hand.

Jocelyn started, her eyes flying wide and her mouth falling open in an "O" as she met Clary's eyes. Her breath came out in a small gasp. "Clary," she breathed. She reached forward, as if to stroke her hair, but then stopped, her hand hovering just next to Clary's face. "By the Angel," she murmured, as if to herself, and took a deep breath, clearly shaken up. It was the first time Clary had heard her mother use Shadowhunter slang. "Oh, baby."

"Mom," Clary said as loudly as she could, barley above a whisper, "What…?" She didn't know what to ask first, or how to ask it. She remembered bits and pieces of what had happened since Yanluo had first injected her, but she had no idea how much of that had been real and how much had been poison-induced hallucinations.

Thankfully, it was her mother there with her, and she didn't need to finish. "You were kidnapped last night, by a Greater demon, Yanluo. He injected you with a demon drug." Clary knew this already, though she didn't dare let on to that. Better to let her mother think she had no recollection of any of it. Jocelyn continued, "Jace and Simon, and Jem, they rescued you. Killed him. You're safe now."

Clary's mind was slowly starting to function properly again, allowing her to think. Had it really only been less than a day she'd been with Yanluo? It had felt like weeks, maybe months. She swallowed. "What about Asmodeus? The war… Has anything-?"

"He came. It's all over, Clary." She blinked, uncomprehending. Asmodeus had come already? When? What happened? What did 'it's all over' mean? Her mother placed a hand gently on her arm. "It's over, Clary," she said again, her voice gentle, motherly. "We won. Everyone's okay. You just need to worry about getting better now."

Clary, deciding to take her mother's word for it for now, moved on to another pressing matter. "Is Jace…?"

"He's here. He's been going quite literally crazy since he discovered you were missing." She broke off, a small smile playing around the edges of her lips, "I think that boy may be in love with you, Clary." Smiling hurt, but Clary couldn't help herself. _You don't say._ "He's been waiting outside in the hall since they brought you back here. Simon too."

"Can you get them?" Clary asked. Jocelyn hesitated, her eyes flicking over to the other side of the bed. Clary followed her mother's gaze and was startled to notice the hooded figure, Brother Enoch, tall and silent in parchment robes, who stood there, and must have been standing there for the duration of their conversation.

_It is not advisable that you have visitors right now,_ he answered in her mind.

"Why not?" Clary demanded weakly.

_You've come very close to death. The demon may have only had you for a single night, but he injected you with enough _yin fen _to kill an ordinary Shadowhunter in that time. Your body needs to rest. You are not well yet._

"They saved my life," Clary argued with effort, "Please just let me see them for five minutes."

"Clary-" Jocelyn began to protest.

"Please," she said again, though she was growing short of breath just from that, "Just a few minutes."

Brother Enoch was as still and silent as ever. _Clarissa, you must remain calm, or you will need to be sedated._

Clary took a deep breath. It hurt. "I am calm. Please just let me speak to them. I'll cooperate, I promise. I just need to see them."

_Very well,_ Brother Enoch relented, to Clary's surprise, after a moment, _But then you will rest._ She nodded. Brother Enoch left her bedside then, and headed toward the infirmary door, completely soundless.

Beside her, her mom stood up. "Luke's downstairs. I'm going to go tell him you're awake." Clary nodded her assent. Jocelyn, with a small smile, leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her forehead and began following the Silent Brother out. Normally, Clary would have hated such a gesture; now, she found she oddly liked it. Funny how near-death experiences changed things.

* * *

Jem finished his story and leaned his head back against the wall he sat against, watching them, Jace in particular. It was, of course, Simon who spoke up first. Jace was frankly blown away, and caught almost equally between hope and despair over Clary. If Jem's experience was anything to go by…

"So your _parabatai _was Jace's, what, great-great grandfather?"

"I believe he was his great-great-_great _grandfather, but yes."

Simon blinked. "Wow."

Jem looked at Jace. "Do you understand now, why I am here?"

"I understand," he answered. His voice sounded dull, even to his own ears. In truth, it explained a lot about a lot of things, just nothing Jace was worried about at the moment. It was nice knowing of his ancestors from such a central point of view, that they really had been good people, good Shadowhunters, even if the whole situation was slightly strange, especially given the fact that that meant Tessa Gray, Jem's fiancée, whom he had met at Clary's parents' wedding was one of those relatives. But he wasn't in the state of mind to dwell on such things right now. "You look good for a hundred and forty seven."

Jem, who didn't look in the slightest bit perturbed, but rather used to such callousness, was spared answering when the door to the infirmary, which Jace had been glancing at every few seconds since he'd sat down, swung silently open and Brother Enoch emerged, followed by Jocelyn, who waited just outside the door.

Jace was on his feet almost before his brain registered the action, and he crossed the small space of hallway toward the Silent Brother. "Is she…?"

_She is alive, though not completely out of danger. The _yin fen _has done great damage to her body, and it will take some time before her system is completely free of its effects._

"Will she be okay?" Simon, who had come to stand beside Jace, looking beyond relieved to hear of Clary's prognosis, asked.

_She was only with Yanluo for a single night, however the amount of the drug given to her was a great deal larger than what we've seen from him in the past. _That part seemed directed specifically at Jem, who had stood up, but stayed where he was against the wall. _The excess angel blood in her veins has kept the poison from consuming her life. A Nephilim without it surely would have perished under the physical and mental stress brought upon the body as a result of it. Had you arrived much later, she would not have survived._

"Is there permanent damage?" Jace asked.

_There doesn't appear to be. Ultimately, time will tell, but she shows no signs of serious addiction to the drug. Her body will heal over time._

The wave of relief that washed over Jace at the Brother's words was enough to almost drown him. "Can I-"

_She is awake and asking to see you-both of you. You are each allotted ten minutes, one at a time._ And with that, Brother Enoch glided down the hall without another word.

Jace looked after him for half a second before turning to Simon, who didn't hesitate. "You go first." Jace, surprised as he was at the other Shadowhunter's answer, almost questioned it. He simply nodded though and patted Simon's back in thanks as he turned once more toward the infirmary door, met Clary's mother's eyes, who smiled minutely at him, and then proceeded to enter the sick room, feeling lighter than he had in ages.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	26. Chapter 26

The lights of the infirmary were off; late afternoon sunlight flooded in through the windows lining the far wall. The rows of beds, all with identical white sheets, were made up and ready, waiting for the next ailing Shadowhunters to use them. Only one was occupied. A small, pale figure with a shock of bright red hair reclined in the bed, propped up on a number of pillows. Her green eyes met Jace's across the room and followed his progression toward her.

Clary.

She offered him the smallest of smiles as he approached her bedside. He took her hand in his. He had always been tanner than she was, but she was so pale now, he could see her veins beneath the nearly translucent skin on the back of her hand. Had she really only been with the demon for a _single_ _day_? She looked so sick, so fragile. What had it _done _to her? Seeing her like this, even with how much better she was now than how she had been when he'd first found her, it filled him with rage. Yanluo was dead-Jem and Simon had made sure of that. He was gone and probably wouldn't be back for a while. That would have to be good enough.

He stared down at her hand in his for a second before looking up and meeting her eyes again. "Do you know," he asked quietly, his voice timid in the way only Clary ever heard it, "how worried I've been?"

She gave his hand a weak squeeze. "I'm okay. You saved me."

"I should never have let that thing take you in the first place."

"There was nothing you could have done. This isn't your fault, Jace. It's not any of ours. You know who's fault it is, and from what I've heard, he's gone."

Jace tightened his grip on her hand, looking down again. His own had begun shaking and he closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. "I just love you, Clary," he said, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I can't lose you. I can't."

"You won't," she answered gently, paused for a moment, and then abruptly said, "Jace." He looked up, waiting. "Kiss me," she whispered, her eyes, like emeralds, boring into his. He stared at her for a few seconds, hesitating, and then slowly leaned toward her. The kiss was gentle, so gentle-she just looked so fragile, but he poured everything into it, all the fear, and worry, and _love_, and the wall he'd built up since Clary had gone missing fell down, so abruptly it was almost painful. A shiver ran down his spine.

He pulled away, but kept his face mere centimeters from hers, resting his forehead against hers, breathing in her familiar scent. "I love you," he quietly told her again.

"I love you too." Jace pulled reluctantly away then and straightened. Clary spoke, "My mom said everything was okay, that it's over… Is that true? Is… Is he really gone?"

Jace nodded. "He's gone. We won."

She seemed to process his words for a moment. "What happened?"

"The Clave picked up the army's presence when it entered our realm this morning. Gia got word to Maryse and gathered what Shadowhunters she could. They met us in Central Park-I know," he said when Clary raised her eyebrows slightly at the mention of the public location, "It was last minute."

"How did you manage to kill him?" she asked, "Asmodeus, I mean."

"Magnus' plan worked, but I don't know specifics. I wasn't there." At her disbelieving expression, he amended, "I left. Asmodeus was bragging about what he'd done with you, how he'd orchestrated the whole thing. He obviously thought he was going to kill us, so he didn't care what we knew. He ended up giving us all the information we needed to find you. I wasn't about to wait around and waste time while you were being poisoned and tortured."

"So what-"

"Alec."

"Alec?" She looked surprised, if not slightly dubious.

He nodded. "I drew the rune on his arm and left. Magnus knew the plan. I guess they managed to work it out, being as it's over and we're all still here. And before you ask, Jem and Simon took care of Yanluo. I wasn't there for that either, and I didn't wait for details after I found you."

She nodded, as if that information was both satisfying and unsurprising. She eyed the infirmary around her. "We really need to stop ending up like this," she stated with some mirth, changing the subject, and met his eyes again, "With me almost dying and you waiting tirelessly at my bedside, making sure I'm okay. It seems to happen too often lately."

"The déjà vu is noted," Jace answered. Their positions had been similar, on a smaller scale, just weeks earlier, after the Morrow demon had attacked Clary and Simon in the street and almost killed her. He'd stayed by her bedside then, like he would have given his right arm to be allowed to do now. "And, by the Angel, Clary, I will make sure it doesn't happen again."

"You can't control that, Jace. Neither time was your fault."

"Maybe not. But you're still not patrolling without me anymore."

"That's okay with me," she said, "But if we have to patrol like we have been recently, you won't have to worry about it anyway because I'm quitting."

"I'll probably join you," Jace said after a moment. He hadn't enjoyed the perpetual long nights and early mornings any more than anyone else. He loved killing demons, but too much of a good thing was neither good nor healthy. Things would slow down, now that the Greater demon was off their backs. Things could potentially go truly back to normal for the first time since before Valentine-that is, if things could even _be _normal anymore.

"No, you won't. You live to Shadowhunt."

He shook his head. "I live for you now. I go where you do."

Clary smiled. "That sounds good to me." And then, the smile vanished as something apparently dawned on her. "Magnus," she said urgently, "My God, is he okay?"

"He's fine," Jace answered, "He's, well, he's apparently mortal now." Alec had found Jace briefly after the Shadowhunters had arrived back from the battle and had told him that Magnus had survived Asmodeus. Jace hadn't asked for details and Alec had clearly known that he didn't want them, as he hadn't offered anything further.

Clary looked shocked and confused. "He's mortal?"

"I guess so. That's what Alec told me. His powers are gone, and, likely, so is his immortality. You'll have to ask one of them if you want more information."

Clary, though, wore a small smile now, which, even with her obvious ailments, was beautiful. "So he's not immortal anymore. That means he and Alec can be together now; they can grow old together." She trailed off for a second before concluding, "That's sweet."

"Yes, adorable," Jace replied briskly, but frankly, he didn't disagree. Alec was his _parabatai_. He wanted him to be happy. Clary made a face at him. He took her hand again. "Hey, listen," he said then, "I have to leave soon. Brother Enoch only gave me ten minutes, but I want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, Jace," she answered, though he wasn't very inclined to believe her.

"Are you sure? Cause I can stay. Enoch can go-"

"I'm _fine_," she repeated, more forcefully than before, though her voice was so pathetically weak, it made his heart hurt. "Besides, the Silent Brothers would never allow it. Brother Enoch already threatened to sedate me once." Jace, for whatever reason, found this fact funny and not at all surprising.

Growing serious again, he looked down at her hand, still in in his, tracing small circles with his thumb on the back of it. "You don't know how scared I was, Clary. When I found you in that room, I thought you were already dead…"

"Hey," Clary responded, her weak voice gentle but firm, "I'm _o-kay_." She annunciated each syllable, as if to make her point, "I'm alive. Because of you."

Despite himself, Jace found himself smirking. "No. You're alive because you're Clary Fray, or Fairchild-whatever it is, and you, despite being small and delicate and beautiful, are the toughest, most stubborn person I have ever met in my entire life."

Clary smiled then too and after a minute, amended, "That too."

Brother Enoch appeared then, seemingly out of nowhere. _Your time is up,_ he said in Jace's mind, _Clarissa needs to rest._

Jace sighed, but didn't argue. He'd pushed his luck with him enough for now. "Okay." He met Clary's eyes again and cupped her face gently in his hands. "I love you," he told her one more time, "I'll come see you later." She nodded between his hands and he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to hers again, unconcerned with the Silent Brother's presence. He pulled away, gave her a small smile, and turned to leave.

* * *

Clary watched Jace's retreating figure as he approached the door and disappeared through it. She had time only to rest her eyes for a second-she was already so _tired_, before she heard the door open again and Simon stepped into view.

He, like Jace and her mother, still wore fighting gear, which was dirty, torn, and stained with blood and ichor. The moment he saw her, he broke into a huge, familiar grin and hurried to her side. "Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Like my insides were removed, frozen, boiled, and then put back again."

His gaze turned sympathetic. He winced. "That bad?"

"Everything hurts."

He immediately looked down at her hand, which he had taken in his, and quickly released it, looking guilty. "Oh."

She forced a laugh through her aching chest. "You can touch me, Simon. It's okay."

He eyed her, but held her hand again, though he kept his grip lighter than before. "Um, alright."

"So, I heard you and Jem took care of Yanluo. How'd that go?"

Simon perked up. "Yeah. I mean, Jem was the one who actually killed it, but it was all thanks to my brilliant plan." He seemed very self-satisfied, for Simon anyway. He still had nothing on Jace. "I broke the windows in the factory and flooded the place with sunlight so Yanluo had nowhere to go but this little dark corner, which gave Jem the shot." He paused, looking thoughtful, "Wow, I guess it really sounds much lamer that way. It was truly very awesome."

"Uh huh," Clary said, amused. She was glad though. She hoped he'd died a painful death, even if only temporarily. "I'm sure it was."

"What? Don't believe me, Fray? Ask Jem. He'll tell you."

"That's okay, I believe you. Good thinking."

"Yup." He said and looked at her, or rather through her, his expression becoming faraway.

"Earth to Simon," Clary said, "Come back to me."

He focused on her again. "Sorry."

She eyed him. Something was on his mind, hidden behind those steady brown eyes. She could tell. "You okay?"

He blinked. "Am _I_ okay? Have you seen yourself lately?" She didn't respond, but continued to watch him, waiting. He sighed. "I'm fine, Clary. I'm just… really glad you're okay. I didn't know if you were going to make it."

"I'm okay," she reassured him. She was saying those words a lot today.

He gave a small smile, looking oddly nervous. "I know. Thank God. I…" He squeezed her hand lightly, serious again. "Listen, I wanted to ask you something. I wasn't sure before, but all of this kind of put things in perspective."

"Okay," Clary said curiously, looking at him intently. Simon was rarely able to catch her off guard, but this was one of those times. The last time he'd been this nervous about telling her something, he'd been trying to ask her out. But that had been over a year ago, and he had Isabelle now. So it wasn't that. And no other idea her scattered, still-partially-poisoned mind could come up with held any water.

"I know I'm new to this whole Shadowhunter thing and everything, and that you're in pretty rough shape right now, but… I was wondering if you'd want to be my _parabatai_?" His rushed words rose at the end, forming a question. Clary was stunned. She definitely hadn't expected that. Mistaking her surprise, Simon started backtracking. "I mean, I just thought, because we've been best friends forever now and after everything we've been through that you'd want to. I hoped so anyway, but if you don't want to, it's fine. I mean, I-"

"Simon," Clary interrupted, smiling, "Shut up."

He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again and looked away, resigning himself to, "Okay."

"Are you sure?" she asked him. She'd thought about becoming Simon's _parabatai_ since the day he'd Ascended, though she never would have dared ask herself. She knew how overwhelming it was to be thrust into this world, even if Simon hadn't been as completely new to it as she had. She never would have burdened him with another thing to prepare for. And yet, here he was, asking her himself.

He looked back at her again. "Of course I'm sure," he answered quickly, "I'm positive."

Clary smiled wider. It hurt her face, but she didn't care. "Then you don't even have to ask."

He hesitated, looking at her carefully. "Was that a yes?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes," she laughed, "Of course, Simon." He smiled then, his expression as familiar to Clary as breathing.

He sighed, looking relieved, "Good."

"Did you really think I'd say no?"

"Well, no. I don't know. I hoped not." He took a deep breath. "I'm just glad you survived. I honestly don't know what any of us would have done if you didn't. I honestly haven't been able to think straight since I found out you were gone."

"I know," she replied.

"We'll have to do it before we turn eighteen. Apparently the ceremony needs to be performed before then."

She smirked. "You _have _been studying up."

He shrugged. "I don't go into everything blindly. Just most things." He grinned.

"Oh yeah? Well that's good to know." She squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out. I've learned it's better not to worry about things you don't have to worry about. You'll live longer."

"In our line of work, not necessarily. But fair point."

She eyed him. "You didn't have to become a Shadowhunter, Simon."

"Yes, I did. And it doesn't matter, because I wanted to be. I'm just saying."

She gave a small smile again. "Well I'm glad you did too. It was never quite right for me without you."

It was only about two minutes later when Brother Enoch reappeared, this time to tell Simon he had to leave. He'd seemed pretty unhappy about it, but had complied. Clary knew he was more intimidated by the Silent Brothers than he would have ever admitted.

_Rest now, Clarissa,_ Enoch's stern voice sounded in her head, but the command was rather unnecessary. By the time Simon was out the door, her eyes were already drooping, exhaustion pulling her down again into the darkness of unconsciousness, into the first truly dreamless sleep she'd had in ages.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	27. Epilogue

**Hey guys! So this is it, the final chapter of this story. I hope you like it!**

* * *

The mood in the foyer was light. The five Shadowhunters and Magnus sat around the room, Jace, with Clary on his lap, and Alec and Magnus, their hands clasped together, next to him on the single red couch; Simon and Isabelle on the floor nearby, his arm slung casually over her shoulders as she leaned against him. It was a happy picture: the six of them, unconcerned and all together in one place for the first time since before the battle, before everything that had happened. It was a welcome change.

As it turned out, the battle with Asmodeus, though it had been long and hard, had been a complete victory for the Nephilim. While there had been quite a few injuries, no lives had been lost. The worst damage sustained had been to Central Park itself. The Clave had enlisted the services of Catarina Loss before they'd left to make the park presentable to mundanes again.

The Silent Brothers had ordered Clary to remain in the infirmary under their watch and care of for a full week after she'd been rescued and Jace, after that first day of limited visitation, had spent the majority of his time by her side. Her coloring had come back during that long week, and she slowly came to look like Clary again, healthy and beautiful, with skin that was only slightly paler than usual at this point. Today was the first day she'd been allowed to leave, but even so, Jace had taken it upon himself to make sure she didn't overdo it, as she had a bad habit of doing. For now, this meant holding her close and enjoying simply being able to do so again while the others continued on with their conversation.

His own thoughts were elsewhere; on the story Jem had told Simon and him while they 'd waited outside the Infirmary door for news on Clary, and the conversation that had ensued later that night between Jace, the former Silent Brother, and Tessa, Jem's fiancée.

Tessa had Portalled to New York that night from the Institute in Los Angeles, where she and Jem were currently living, both to check on Clary and to speak to Jace. He'd met the warlock woman before, at Jocelyn and Luke's wedding, but hadn't known her story, either of theirs, at the time. Once his overwhelming fears over Clary subsided, Jace had found he had many questions. He had spoken with the two of them for over an hour that night, learning things about his father and his family that he'd never thought he'd get the chance to know.

He'd accepted and made peace with his past after the Dark War, but he'd never truly grown to have the pride and love for his family name that Shadowhunters were supposed to have. He'd viewed it as a new beginning to a history that had been lost and forgotten, a history that was up to him to rebuild. But talking to Jem and Tessa, two essential parts of his family's past, he'd found that the Herondale history, in fact, was not lost, not even remotely so. For so long he'd longed for something, some bit of information, some journal entry of Stephen's, that would jump out at him saying, "Yes. This was your father. This was your family. And you belong to it," and for so long, he hadn't found it. The conversation that night had changed that, and every doubt he'd still had, no matter how buried down and subconscious it may have been, vanished completely that night. For the first real time in his life, he knew exactly who he was, who his family was, and was proud of it. For truly the first time, he was satisfied to think of passing the Herondale name down to his-and Clary's- children one day.

He was brought back to reality by Clary's voice, addressing Magnus. "If you're a mortal now, completely human, like Simon was after Edom…" Her tone was unsure, as if she didn't completely want to ask.

"Yes?" Magnus prompted, his green eyes-just plain, human eyes now, on her.

"Then would you be able to Ascend and become a Shadowhunter like he did?" she finished.

Magnus paused for a moment, though from the look on Alec's face as he watched his boyfriend beside him answer, Jace could tell that this wasn't the first time the idea had been brought up between the two of them. "I don't see why I couldn't," Magnus answered, "From what any of us can tell, there is no longer anything magical about me. However, I don't know that I'll do that. Not right away, at least." He glanced at Alec beside him, whose gaze held nothing but love and what looked like resignation, "I don't know that I want to thrust myself into that world again so soon. I suppose we'll see."

"I'll stay with you either way," Alec told him. Magnus smiled. Despite himself, Jace still found himself slightly shocked at Alec's directness. His _parabatai _had come a long way from the shy, moody person he'd been just a year ago. He was bold now, and didn't care what others thought. He'd found his place and was proud of it. Jace was thoroughly impressed.

Looking back to Clary, the former warlock concluded, "But yes, I probably could, and no, I haven't completely ruled it out." She nodded, and he added, "Either way though, biscuit, you're all still stuck with me."

"I think you'd make a great Shadowhunter, Magnus," Isabelle put in, "I really think you should consider it."

Magnus blinked at her. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

Isabelle ignored him, "I mean, if you Ascended, the Clave couldn't say anything about you and Alec."

"Plus, it's not like they could refuse you," Simon added, "After everything you've done for them."

"That may be true, but I don't think Alec and I will be a problem. Times are changing," Magnus answered, defending his point, "Besides, I could never do it. That gear you're forced to wear? Hideous. Even if it has come a long way in the fashion department. I could never wear that."

"Yes, you could," Simon said, "You'd just dump a pound of glitter on it and be good to go."

Magnus looked to be honestly considering his point. Jace couldn't listen to another word of this. "Angel help us," he said, resting his chin atop Clary's hair.

"What?" Magnus demanded of him innocently, "You don't think I could pull it off?"

"Oh, I have no doubt you would pull it off. Which is exactly my point."

"You don't think I could pull it off. I see how it is. Your lack of confidence is noted."

Jace shook his head, more amused than anything else. Leaning down to whisper in Clary's ear, he asked, "You want to get out of here?"

After over a week of being stuck inside, he saw her answer coming a mile away. Still, he was happy when she nodded.

"Okay, well, on _that _note, I am leaving," Jace said aloud, as the two of them stood up, "And I am taking Clary with me. We'll be back later." And with that, he took Clary's hand in his and led her out the door.

* * *

There were few things Simon enjoyed more in life than kissing Isabelle Lightwood. There was nothing else like it; there was no one else like _her_. She was too good for him, even now that he was a Shadowhunter just like she was. She would forever be too good for him, and yet, somehow, she loved him anyway. He knew this because she'd just told him so.

It wasn't like it was the first time he'd heard her say it to him, but still the words sent pleasant shivers through him and made his heart beat in strange, irregular ways. No one, not even Clary, had ever made him feel quite like she did.

"I love you too," he said, and closed the small gap between their mouths once again.

Jace and Clary had started something of an exodus when they'd left. Magnus and Alec had followed behind not a minute later; to do what, Simon didn't want to know. They'd left though, leaving him and Izzy alone in the foyer, still sitting on the floor a few feet from the couch. Izzy, unperturbed, had simply stood up, walked over to the vacated couch, and planted herself on it, looking at Simon expectantly, clearly waiting for him to follow suit. He had.

And that was where they were now, on the red couch cushions, engaged in nothing short of a make-out session, and Simon, though his mind had gone almost completely blank by this point and his brain was likely a puddle of goo inside his skull, managed to muster up a single concern.

With some effort, he separated himself from her enough to ask, "Should we go somewhere else? What if your mom-"

"She won't," Izzy breathed, "She doesn't come in here much. And if she does, well…" she smirked, "She's seen worse things, I'm sure." She brought her lips to his again and the remaining bit of Simon's resolve crumbled and blew away like autumn leaves in the breeze.

This was his life now: Isabelle, and Clary, and killing demons, and having a purpose, and being awesome, and _Isabelle_. It was everything he'd wanted from the very first day he'd learned of this world, and it was all his now. Finally.

He'd gone home to his mom the night after Asmodeus and his army had been defeated, after he'd left the Infirmary on Brother Enoch's orders and found himself longing to see his mom and hopefully Rebecca if she was still in town. So he had.

He'd hopped the next subway to Brooklyn and had gone home for the first time in over a month, since everything had happened, and he had been welcome there like he hadn't been as a vampire. His mother had hugged him, smiling and relieved to see him alive and well. "Does this mean it's over?" she asked. He'd told her just enough of what had been going on to convince her to allow him to stay at the Institute until the whole mess was cleared up back when it all had first gotten bad, and had only spoken to her over the phone in the time since. He'd watered it down like crazy, and still she'd worried. Because she loved him. Because he was her son again.

He smiled. "Yeah. Everything's fine now. We won."

"And Clary?" she asked, worry again coloring her expression. Simon had told her over the phone what was going on the night before when they'd come back without his best friend and he'd been too distraught to talk to anyone else about it. Looking back, it maybe hadn't been the smoothest thing to do if he'd wanted her to _not _worry, but he hadn't exactly been thinking straight at the time.

He nodded, "She's gonna be okay."

His mother had sighed, "Oh, thank God," and grabbed his hand, "So you'll be sticking around here now? You'll be home at night again? Living here?" Simon nodded and his mother pulled him in for another hug.

That had been a week ago, and for the first time in a long time, everything seemed to be normal. This was his life now, the life of a Shadowhunter, and even with everything that had transpired over the past weeks, Simon had never felt as _right _as he had since Ascending. This was his life, and it was as if it had been this way all along. He'd been born to be a Shadowhunter. Now, he had the rest of his life to enjoy it.

And he couldn't wait.

* * *

The halls of the Institute were deserted as Magnus led Alec through them by the hand. He wore his usual wild array of colors and patterns: baby blue T-shirt, red leather pants, green scarf, and, to top off the loud ensemble, a black and white zebra striped hat-a fedora, Magnus had called it. His hands also bore exactly five rings each, every one a different color and stone, one on every finger. It seemed that even without his magic, Magnus was still as vibrant as ever-both inside _and _out.

Alec would never understand his boyfriend's fashion obsession. Ever.

Still, that wasn't what was on his mind as the former warlock led him through the ancient, wallpapered hallways. His thoughts were scarier than Magnus' obsession with absurd clothes. He cursed himself for thinking the way he was, but he couldn't help himself. Some part of him, deep down, was still self-conscious and insecure, still scared that the relationship between them wasn't as sure a thing as he'd thought it was.

"Where are we going?" he asked, trying to think of something else.

"To your room-what used to be your room anyway. Isn't that obvious by now? You did live here for most of your life, Alexander."

"Oh," was all he said. Magnus, hearing his tone, cast him a strange look, but didn't press.

"I decided we were due for a little… time _alone_," he elaborated.

And just like that, Alec couldn't take it anymore. Digging his heels into the floor, he resisted against Magnus' lead, forcing him to either stop walking himself or let go of his hand. "Magnus, stop."

He stopped. "Why?" Magnus asked, his expression growing concerned at the look on Alec's face, "What is it, Alexander? What's wrong?"

"Just…" Alec took a deep breath, steeling himself to say the words that he needed to say. "You're human now. You can have a life now instead of the existence you had before. I know everything is different for you now… Just-" He looked up from the point he'd been studying on the floor to meet Magnus' eyes, "Just tell me you aren't going to leave me."

Magnus looked blown away. He blinked at him for a second. "Why would you ask that?" he asked finally.

"Because you said, more than once, that you don't want to become a Shadowhunter; that you don't want to be a part of that world again. You told me you want to experience life as a mortal; that you don't want to have to constantly worry about the pressures of the Clave and the Shadow World. That you want, for the first time, to live a truly normal life. And that's fine, except that I _am _that world, Magnus. How can you not be a part of this world and still be with me at the same time? You can't. And I know you can't. So-" he took a shaking breath, "So if you're going to break up with me, please just do it. Please."

Magnus was openly gaping at him now. "Alec," he breathed, looking shocked. "Alec, I'm not going to leave you." He took a step forward and Alec, for the first time in a long time, had to resist the urge to step back. Magnus' eyes, so unfamiliar now without their golden slits, and yet so familiar at the same time, bored into his, looking more open and honest then, Alec thought, he'd likely ever seen them. "I couldn't leave you. Not any more than I could go on living without my heart beating in my chest. As if I'd even want to if you weren't there with me."

It was Alec's turn to blink. "You don't?"

"Of course not. I love you, Alexander. Don't you know that by now?"

"I just thought-"

"That my becoming mortal would take away my feelings for you? That could never happen. I don't want to be a Shadowhunter, no; I don't want a life of fighting. But if it was the only way I could be with you for the rest of my life, I would Ascend in a heartbeat. You know I would. I would do anything."

Alec could only stare, panting as if he'd just been running, into Magnus' eyes. And then in the next second, without him really knowing how they ended up there or who had moved first, they were in each others arms and Magnus was kissing him and he was kissing back and the last of the fear that had gripped Alec, had held him in place like a vise since Magnus had become human, disappeared.

And it was only then that he realized just how unnecessary they'd been in the first place.

* * *

"Catarina did a good job," Clary said admiringly, leaning back against Jace, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were lying about there being a battle here."

They were in Central Park, in their usual secluded spot, seated in the green grass, which was scattered here and there with fallen leaves. The surrounding trees were various shades of red, yellow, and orange, the ground level and whole, interrupted occasionally only by families picnicking, little kids running around, and New Yorkers throwing Frisbees and footballs back and forth in the nice weather-mundanes going about their lives, unconcerned. It was just another ordinary day in early fall, like any other. There wasn't a trace of evidence to suggest that there had been a viscous battle in this very field just a week ago. Not even a little.

"But, of course, you do know better. I'd never lie to you," Jace replied. He was playing with her hair, curling it around his fingers absently. It was a new habit he'd picked up recently, but Clary honestly kind of liked it. It was a very _normal _gesture, comforting and nice.

He looked about as close to a mundane today as was possible for Jace to look, in a navy blue T-shirt and jeans. He was, of course, probably armed, but he was good at hiding it.

"That's good to hear," she commented, closing her eyes against him and enjoying the sunshine and the light breeze that was blowing through, ruffling their hair. It was the first time she'd been allowed outside since Yanluo had kidnapped her. The same four walls of the Infirmary had been easier to endure when Jace was there, which had been most of the time, but she was extremely glad to finally be free of them.

She felt worlds better. It would still be a few weeks before she was back to normal, and surely at least that long until Jace would allow her to even _think_ of training again, but, all things considered, she was grateful. He had told her what had happened to Jem as a child and she had spoken to the former Silent Brother herself briefly as well. She knew things could have been much worse. And knowing that, she would take the residual pain and weakness that Brother Enoch had said would probably linger for a little while happily. She was alive and she would grow up and live a normal Shadowhunter life. With Jace.

"Mmm," he murmured, moving to lie down in the grass and pulling her with him. She rested her head against his chest and looked up at him, craining her neck awkwardly.

"So what now?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that there literally has not been a time since I found out I was a Shadowhunter that we weren't dealing with something. First, it was Valentine, then Sebastian, then everything with Simon, then Asmodeus. I mean we literally haven't gotten a break since all of that first started and now everything is just _over_. So what exactly do we do now?"

"You mean, what exactly is 'normal' when you've never actually experienced anything of the sort?"

"Something like that."

Jace grinned. "Well, to be honest, there is no such thing as 'normal' when you're a Shadowhunter. There will always be something else to deal with, just usually on a smaller scale than what you're used to."

She looked up at him again. That wasn't exactly an answer to her question. "So you don't know," she summed up.

"What's to know? We live, we train, we fight. It's what we do."

"C'mon, Jace. Seriously," she chided, wanting a better answer than that. She shifted so she was lying next to him and looked at him full on.

Jace sighed and propped his head up on his hand so he was looking down at her. "Honestly, Clary, before I met you, I simply lived my life from one fight to the next. I never wanted or needed anything more than that. But then you came along and changed everything for me. _You_ taught me that life was more than that. I have no more idea than you do about what happens next, and I don't really care, as long as I get to have you for it."

Clary opened her mouth to reply, but the words died in her throat. She closed it again and simply smiled up at him. "I love you, Clary," Jace continued, "Words can't even express how much." He didn't give her time to reply, or to do anything, before he leaned down and was kissing her, making the rest of the world disappear.

And if the people in the park saw them: the teenage boy and girl kissing passionately in the corner of the grassy plain, if they could see the scars on their skin from runes and battles fought, or the callouses on their hands from weapons, or the hardened maturity in their eyes from the pain and losses they'd both experienced and shared; if they could see anything in that moment but for the all-consuming love that was far too strong for any ordinary hormonal teenage couple to possess, they kept their silence.

* * *

**And there you have it. City Of New Beginnings is officially finished. **

**First off, thank you SO MUCH everyone for reading. Your reviews were so much fun to read! Thank you for every follow and favorite. Thank you for everything. You guys are so awesome!**

**I will be posting some one-shots and stuff for TMI in the somewhat near future, so be on the lookout for those, as well as some more of my usual PJO stuff. And as always, if you have any ideas for future stories, feel free to let me know. I'd love to give them a shot!**

**Again, thank you guys for everything. It's been fun and a pleasure writing this for you! Thanks for reading and I hope I did the ending justice.**

**Until next time!**

**-LiveLaughLove728**


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